And when you meet him, your past won't matter anymore
by SamWin98
Summary: When Thomas gets thrown into a place called the Glade, he expects his life soon to be over. What he doesn't expect is the interest he starts growing in a certain blonde Glader. But as things in the Glade begin to change in the most horrible way, Thomas is left to decide who to trust. An unknown girl who claims to be his lover, or a boy with a smile that makes him breathless?
1. Chapter 1

So since I'm hopelessly hooked on TMR and newtmas, I decided to write a fic. (more like I couldn't live without writing a newtmas fic because is there _anything cuter than those two no there isn't_ but anyway)

It's been so long since I last wrote anything! This one's gonna be long, longer than anything else I've ever written. I have no idea how many chapters I'll write, but they'll probably all be about as long as this first one.

One more important thing: since I have both read the book and watched the movie, I couldn't really decide which one to follow - so I'm gonna make my own mix of the book and the movie. I also haven't read the book in English, so the Gladers' slang is kinda hard for me to write, but I'm gonna try to use it anyway.

 **I own nothing.**

Enjoy (or don't, it's a free world)

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 1**_

* * *

The first thing I become aware of is the nagging pain on the back of my skull.

The second thing is the at least dozen different pairs of eyes that stare me from the above. I stare back blindly, having absolutely zero idea what's happening.

"Welcome back, greenie," somebody laughs and couple others join in. My gaze shifts from one face to another, my brains slowly processing the fact that I'm lying on the ground and there's a group of boys standing around me.

"Nice faceplanting, bro," another voice says, the comment followed by agreeing hums and snickers.

My mouth hangs open but no words come out. The boys keep chattering and joking around me.

"Doesn't he know how to talk?" Somebody snarls, and another voice answers: "Maybe he doesn't remember how to talk!" They all crack into a laugh, and I get the weird feeling of not getting an inside joke.

Then one of the boys steps forward, and silences the rest of the group with a glare.

"Enough. You've all been in his place," he says. He then looks down at me and smiles, brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. His skin is dark and something in the way he's standing makes me think of him as some kind of a leader of this group. Other boys remain silent, but their eyes reveal that they're only being quiet because of respect, not because they don't find my situation funny. The dark boy offers me a hand, saying: "Come on, greenie, time to get up."

I'm still just as confused as I was when I first opened my eyes, but maybe it's the respect the other boys are showing him that make me trust him enough to grab the hand that's being offered to me. With his help I stand up, struggling to find balance with my slightly wobbly legs. I stare at the leader-boy, still not getting a word out of my mouth, but something in his eyes makes me think he knows what I'm going through.

"I'm Alby. Can you tell me anything about yourself?" He – Alby, apparently – asks me. I swallow nervously, afraid that my voice will betray me, and answer: "My name is Thomas-" and suddenly realize something I didn't realize before. Alby asks me whether I can tell him anything about myself, and apart from my name, I – I _can't._ I can't tell him anything because I don't remember anything.

"I…I, uh, I don't...I don't remember anything else," I stammer, trying to hide the panic in my voice, suddenly afraid I'm going to throw up or something. How can I not remember anything? I try to search my mind for _anything_ really, but nothing comes up. I have no idea who I am or why I'm here.

Which instantly makes another question pop into my head.

"Where am I? What is this place?" I ask, immediately starting to make my way through the boys, not caring that I'm pretty much shoving everybody out of my way. I step out of the crowd, ignoring the protests I hear, finally taking a proper look at my surroundings.

There's green grass pretty much everywhere. On the right I can see a small gardening area, on the left there's some kind of structure made of probably wood. But all those things are something I barely register, because after approximately one and a half seconds I realize this whole area is surrounded by four walls.

Four, grey walls, each at least 250 feet tall, maybe more. I turn around and notice a huge gap in one of the walls, and it looks like some kind of a…doorway.

What the hell is this place?

"Whoa, there, greenie. Calm down, you look like you're about to pass out," Alby points out, placing his palm on my shoulder as a calming effect, and either he doesn't hear the snicker "again" or he just doesn't care about it.

"But wha- I mean, where…what-" I'm having a trouble finding my words, being a total stammering idiot and really not even caring about it, but luckily Alby seems to know what I'm thinking about.

"Okay, first, calm down, or you'll get thrown into the Stammer," Alby warns me, and even though I have absolutely _zero_ idea what the 'Stammer' is, I decide to follow Alby's order. I close my eyes and take a deep breath – as if it'd really help, I just try to look like someone who's being absolutely calm. It works, the hard, bossy look in Alby's eyes softens and he nods.

"So…Thomas, right? Welcome to the Glade. That's what we call this place. Just like the rest of us, you don't remember anything from your previous life. You arrived here about…30 minutes ago with the box, freaked out when you saw us, tried to run but tripped and hit your head. Then you woke up and…now we're here."

Okay…so that explains the dull pain on the back of my skull, then.

Also, great first impression and all, Thomas. Just great.

"Box? What's that? Why am I here? What are _you_ all doing here?" I can't help the flood of questions from coming. An exasperated frown forms to Alby's face, but I'm not really in the mood for feeling sorry for being annoying.

"The box is over there, go take a look if you want," He says, pointing into the direction I came from, and continues: "Now, enough with the questions. I have tons of things to do, Newt can explain the rest of it to you."

"But- "

"Slim it. Chuck?"

"Here!" A voice from behind us answers, and I turn around to see the young speaker. The boy looks really young compared to all the other faces I'm seeing, and he has curly brown hair that keeps falling over his eyes.

"Show Thomas the Homestead. And go find Newt, okay? He knows how to handle the newbies," Alby commands, and I'm trying really hard to ignore the way he calls me a _newbie_ – which I guess I am, though. Chuck nods excitedly and rushes to my side, face gleaming with curiosity as he smiles at me.

"And everyone else, get back to work. The show's over," Alby orders, and after he walks away the crowd starts to slowly split up, their gazes still following me as they leave. I feel a tug on my sleeve, and turn to look at Chuck.

"Hi, I'm Chuck," he states, starting to walk towards the wooden structure. I nod, and answer: "Thomas," although he probably knows that already. Deciding it's wisest to listen to Alby, I start to follow Chuck.

"So…Chuck. What is this place?" I can't help asking. Chuck glances at me and shrugs. "It's the Glade. We all live here," he simply answers. I can't help feeling a little annoyed – okay maybe not just a little – by the fact nobody seems to want to tell me what's going on. I mean, I just arrived here like, minutes ago with a magical elevator straight from hell, suffered something that feels like a mild concussion - not that I know what a concussion feels like, let alone a mild one – and can't remember anything else than my own name. You'd _think_ people would treat you a little nicer after that.

It's only when I hear Chuck smirk "We've all been there, you know," that I realize I've been muttering my thoughts out loud under my breath.

"Then why don't you tell me anything? If you all know exactly what it feels like to be me right now," I point out, desperately needing answers to my questions.

"Look, it's getting pretty late already, you should just wait for the morning. Alby's gonna take you to a tour then," Chuck answers, looking at me apologetically. I look at the sky, and indeed, it looks like the sun's about to set. We're almost at the wooden sculpture – or Homestead, according to what Alby said to Chuck. I'm not sure what to feel about the 'building'; it looks like it might collapse any second.

"This is where we sleep," Chuck tells me proudly, pointing at the Homestead. "Don't worry, it's a lot comfier on the inside," He quickly adds, noticing my hesitant look. I really don't feel like venturing inside the poorly built house, but when Chuck opens the door I don't have any other options than to follow him.

I have to admit; Chuck wasn't lying. It _is_ a lot comfier on the inside. There are windows, but they're all covered with some kind of curtains, preventing the light from fully getting inside. The shimmers of light penetrating through the curtains create kind of a sleepy atmosphere to the room. There are at least thirty hammocks hanging from the ceiling, each hammock having slightly different kinds of pillows or covers in it. In the back of the room I can see a staircase leading upstairs.

Chuck starts making his way to the hammocks, his eyes clearly searching for something.

"Here, downstairs, we sleep. On the upstairs we have all the medical stuff and a couple of real beds instead of hammocks, too, if somebody gets seriously hurt. Clint and Jeff are the only med-jacks because they're the only ones who understand the medical stuff," he tells me, brown curls swinging from one side to another as he keeps turning his head while searching. Then, an excited "Here!" and he quickly motions me to follow him to one of the hammocks. It appears to be empty of covers and pillows, but definitely not brand-new; somebody clearly hasn't mind sleeping on it with shoes on.

I look at Chuck, unsure of what he wants me to do.

"This is yours now! You can sleep in it," he states and pats the hammock beside him, his hand's motion making a small puff of dust whirl to the air.

"Um..."

"C'mon, don't be such a shuckface; these hammocks are a lot cozier than what they look like, I promise. Of course, this one's a little dusty since it hasn't been used since-" but suddenly Chuck shuts up, a hesitant look in his eyes, as if he's afraid he's already said too much.

Which is _ridiculous_ because he hasn't said _anything_ important yet.

Man, this whole "let's keep everything as a secret from Thomas because he's the newbie and he freaked out and faceplanted in front of pretty much everyone" scenario is _really_ getting old.

"I- I mean, it hasn't been used in a…in a while," Chuck stutters, gaze aimed to his feet.

"What do you mean, in a while? Whose bed is it?" But of course the only answer I get is a silent shrug before Chuck turns around and makes his way to the door.

Typical. Just _typical._

The door slams after him, suddenly making him the only person inside the house. Or Homestead. Whatever. Loneliness sweeps over me like bucketful of ice cold water, making me realize – _again_ – the whole situation I'm in right now.

Alone, without a single memory of my previous life, with a bunch of weirdos living a cozy farm-life, their world being surrounded by walls taller than Zeus' dick. What the hell am I doing here? Panic rises inside my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Then a thought hits me – the walls. And not only the walls; the doorway.

I'm getting the hell out of here.

I rush to the door, opening it and not seeing Chuck anywhere. Well, good. At least he won't try to stop me.

There are other people outside, naturally, but it looks like they're fully concentrating on their own stuff. At least that's what I hope. I'm a bit lost at first, not remembering the way I came from, but luckily the gap in the wall is not hard to find. I start walking, deciding running – even if it'd be faster – would only cause unwanted attention.

I can't help my curiosity as I walk towards the monstrous doorway. I let my gaze wander, checking my surroundings again. On my left there's the gardens again, and straight ahead of me I can see two areas surrounded by fences, with actual animals living within them. Pigs and cows. And is that a goat, tied to a pole?

Behind the fences is another building-like sculpture, and I don't care enough to guess what purpose it stands for. On my right side is a forest-y area.

The giant doorway is placed between the Homestead and the forest, so that's where I'm headed. I silently pray for _anyone who happens to be listening_ not to let the other members of this crazed society to notice my leaving, and guess what? At first, they don't. I get closer and closer to the door, less than a hundred feet separating me from the freedom.

And then, out of nowhere, the deafening screeching starts.

The voice startles me, making me stop walking. Panic tightens its grip on me and I'm left to struggle inside my head between the urge to run and the need to hide. I turn my head around trying to understand what the source of the horrifying noise is, and then, when I glace the doorway again, I realize. It's the doorway.

Which is closing.

On its own.

I drop to my knees, not understanding what I'm seeing. The giant walls slide towards each other, making the gap smaller and smaller every passing second. I'm aware of chattering behind me, but being almost paralyzed with fear, I don't turn my head to see who it is. Then doors collide with each other, sending a breeze of cold air in my direction, and suddenly it's as quiet as in a grave.

"So, I see you found the maze, then," a voice says from my right side. I tear my gaze from the walls – now separating me totally from the outer world – and take a look to the speaker instead. The guy's staring at me, dark eyes glowing, mouth turned into a smile. Not a mocking smile, like the ones I saw when I woke up after hitting my head; not the shy and insecure smile that Chuck had; but also not like Alby's commanding "trust me" kind of smile. It's slightly curious and encouraging, but above all else – it's just a smile. A smile that makes me feel there's not any kind of pattern I must follow or any certain way to act to be worthy of that smile.

"Catching flies, mate?" He asks, which is when I realize my mouth hangs fully open from the shock of the closing doors. I close it, feeling embarrassed.

"I just…I, um…"

"Hey, relax. It's okay," he laughs, and then I'm being offered a hand for the second time this day. "Name's Newt, greenie. What's yours?"

I decide there's absolutely no point in refusing a friendly act, especially at this moment, and grab his hand. Also, to be telling the truth, there's something about him that makes me want to trust him. Newt hauls me up, and after swiping away the grasses from my pants, I answer: "Thomas."

Newt simply nods, pushing his hands to his pockets. Now that I'm standing, I notice he's actually a little shorter than me, and definitely smaller. Not in the small-and-chubby kind of way like Chuck, but in a yes-I'm-small-but-I-could-kill-you-with-one-punch kind of way. He's skinny, but muscular; slim, but powerful. At least that's the impression I get, for some reason.

Newt ruffles his blonde hair, still staring at me.

"You weren't really planning about running to the maze, were you, greenie?" Newt asks me, his face already revealing that he knows the answer.

"I…I was just- wait, what?" I interrupt myself, realizing the word Newt's been using. "The Maze?"

Newt frowns. "Oh. So you don't know about it yet. Right," He sighs, rolling his eyes. "I don't get why they always have to act so bloody mysterious. Not like we haven't all been in your place."

That's when I realize he has a strange accent. A weird one, but I haven't decided whether it's a good-weird or a bad-weird yet.

"You're a shy one, then? Weird, they told we got a whiner again," Newt says after waiting a while for my answer. The choice of words immediately catches my full attention.

"A _whiner_? What the heck? I was just trying to get some friggin' answers!" I defend myself. Newt raises both his hands as a gesture of peace.

"Chill, Tommy, I was just quoting what they said. I think they're being bloody ridiculous every now and then. Anyway, you must be hungry, I guess you haven't eaten since you came, and we can't really tell when was the last time you ate on your previous life, can we now," Newt looks at me, the same smile back on his lips. He nods his head to the direction of the Homestead, mouthing 'come', and starts walking.

"Wait, so, so…where are we? And I swear to God if I hear the answer 'Glade' _once_ more I'm gonna-"

"Calm down," Newt laughs, "I won't say the-thing-you-don't-want-me-to-say." He takes a couple of seconds to think while we're walking, and starts to explain.

"This is…our home, where we live. By 'we' I mean me and 23 other boys – well, 24, if you're being counted, too. We've all arrived here the same way you did; inside the Box, with no memories from our past, apart from our names." Newt takes a pause, checks if I'm still with him. I nod, gesturing him to continue. _Finally_ I'm getting answers.

"We get a new greenie every month, as well as some new supplies. Clothes, soap, medicine…simple things. And before you ask; no, we have no idea who's done this to all of us. We learn to cope with our lost memories, and start making new ones here. We build our stuff, grow our food and take care of...this place. Everybody has their own work to do, and we're gonna find one for you, too."

We're almost at the Homestead now, and I see a building behind it that I didn't notice before. I see some smoke coming from the…um, it can't actually be called a smokestack since it's more like just a hole in the roof, but I'm guessing this must be the place we're going to.

"So…what's on the outside, then?" I ask, not taking my eyes off the building. It's hard to try to understand but I'm doing my best.

Newt sighs deeply, taking his time before answering: "The Maze. It's…it's pretty hard to explain, really. The only thing you need to know right now is that these walls are here to protect us. Which actually brings me into the first rule; never, _ever_ go into the Maze. Ever."

"Protecting us? From what? What do you mean?"

"I'll explain it to you, but not right now. Now, we eat," and it's only when we step inside the building behind the Homestead and are greeted with the delicious smell of food that I realize I'm actually friggin' starving.

There are tables, chairs, a door leading to what I can only assume is a kitchen, and a desk with some empty bowls on it. Some people are sitting on the chairs, eating something soup-like and chattering together. They all grow silent when Newt and I step inside, not even trying to hide their curious staring.

"Yo, it's the faceplanter-greenie!" I hear somebody yell, and couple other voices join the laugh.

"C'mon, shut it, you shanks," Newt commands, but I can see he's smiling. He makes his way towards the desk, eyeing the empty bowls. Then he yells "Fry!" and after a couple seconds a guy with a white apron comes out of the kitchen. He takes a look at the empty bowls, sighing deeply.

"Of course these fat-asses already emptied every bowl. Newt, you know better than to come late," he says, looking at Newt with a sympathetic look on his face. He then seems to realize that I'm also standing there, and the smile that rises to his face is playful.

"Oh, I see. You caught the new greenie, didn't ya."

Newt huffs, motioning the other boy to drop the subject.

"Fry, this is Tommy. Tommy – Frypan," he introduces me to the other boy.

"Thomas," I quickly correct him, and Frypan nods, measuring me with his looks.

"Sure. Let me guess – you want something to eat?" Although he's still staring at me, the question is obviously directed to Newt. He shrugs.

"You know me, buddy. And Tommy here needs some meat on his bones, before his growling stomach wakes the Grievers," Newt chuckles, and my stomach makes the perfect timing to growl right after his comment.

"For Gods sakes," Frypan sighs deeply, "follow me, you slintheads. And make sure this is the last time."

We follow Frypan – what the heck kind of a name is _Frypan_ anyway? – to the kitchen, where he stacks a dozen sandwiches to a plate. Looks like it's not the first time somebody comes begging for more food afterhours.

Newt takes the plate offered to him with a huge smile on his face, thanks Frypan and leads me back to the dining tables. He picks an empty table and sits down, and I pick the chair next to him.

"Frypan's our cook. Adam and Frankie help him in the kitchen, but I think they mostly do the dishes and stuff. Fry's the only one who knows how to make food, he's bloody great cook," Newt explains to me while munching a sandwich, and I take one, too. "Don't tell him I said that, though."

"So…Why can't I go to the Maze? What's in there?" I ask and take a bite myself. Wow, since when has a _sandwich_ tasted this good? I wolf it down with just a couple bites and immediately grab another one. Newt smirks when he sees how hungry I am.

"I told you, I'll explain it to you later. The Maze is…huge. We've been here for two years, and we still haven't found anything from the Maze, but we'll keep searching. There has to be a way out somewhere."

"But…so you've been there? In the Maze? But you just told me never to go there," I point out, emptying my mouth of another sandwich. Good _God_ these are tasty.

"Well, you can't, obviously. But the Runners can."

"Runners?"

"Yeah. Like I told you, we all have our own stuff to do here. There's Builders, Slicers, Sloppers, and so on, and then there's Runners. They're the only ones who get to go to the Maze. They leave at sunrise, spend the whole day running through the Maze, mapping the area, and return before sunset."

I gulp down my third sandwich, and reach to my fourth one. Newt raises his eyebrows amusedly as he finishes his first sandwich. "What? I'm hungry," I mumble defensively, and Newt simply chuckles.

"Yo, Newt! Who's the new shank?"

We both turn our heads to see the speaker. He looks like he's Asian, with pitch black hair and brown eyes, and he's covered in sweat. Newt motions him to sit down, and he chooses the chair on the other side of our table. Without asking he grabs one of the sandwich and starts to munch, while giving Newt the questionable look.

"I'm Thomas," I answer, before Newt has a chance to introduce me as 'Tommy' again. The Asian boy looks at me and nods.

"Minho here's actually one of the Runners. Like you can see from his charming looks, he just came from the Maze," Newt says with a grin as he looks at Minho's sweaty appearance.

Minho gives him the finger, and keeps eating in silence. Although I've never seen him before, I can see he's exhausted. Who wouldn't be, after spending the whole day running in a maze?

It's when the thought of spending a day in the maze hits me that I realize I want to be a Runner, too. It's depressing, knowing that they've been searching for a way out for _two friggin' years_ , but for some reason I just know I have to do it. No matter the horrible things Newt keeps telling me there is, I know nothing can be terrifying enough to keep me out of the Maze.

I decide not to tell Newt and Minho about my decision yet – they'd think I'm suicidal. Or willing to try escaping again, which I'm not, not anymore. It has something to do with Newt being so damn calm and collected, and he and Minho giving each other shit like they're not trapped inside an enormous Maze and forced to play farmers from day to day. Something about them makes me want to belong here, too.

Then Minho tells Newt he has a gift for him, his hand disappearing in his pocket, and coming out of it with his right fist closed. The dark haired boy orders Newt to close his eyes, which he doesn't, apparently knowing his friend well enough. Minho smirks evilly, his opening fist revealing a huge, wiggling centipede – how can it still be alive after being inside a damn _pocket_ – and Newt yelps and jumps off his chair, backing a couple steps from us.

He curses loudly, calling Minho with a dozen different names, including "you bloody piece of klunk I hope you choke in your tongue in your sleep", and I can't help but laugh.

And his weird accent? Definitely a good-weird.

* * *

 _ **END OF CHAPTER 1**_

* * *

Ta-da!

I know this first chapter was kinda lame since nothing really important happened, but I just felt like I had to end it somewhere. I should also warn you guys that _I don't know how to keep chapters short_ so you might as well get used to the fact things are gonna go slow.

Also, have no mercy! Beat me up and let me know what's good and what's bad. Es _pecially_ the bad ones!

And a huuuuge thanks to fixusi for betaing, you're the best VIP person! :*


	2. Chapter 2

Another chapter, yayy! This one was a struggle, because I had problems with both the beginning and the ending.

But here it is, hope you like it! A huuuuge thanks to the best beta reader, fixusi, again :*

 **I own nothing**.

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 2**_

* * *

On my fifth morning in the Glade I wake up before sunrise.

I lie on my hammock, staring at the poorly built roof. Minho's hammock on my left side hangs empty like always, since Runners always have to wake up before others to be able to leave right after the door opens. I turn my head to my right side, where Zart, the Keeper of the Track-hoes, sleeps. I'm supposed to be working with him today, but according to his loud snoring he won't be up before he has to.

I stand up, knowing that I won't be able to catch any more sleep, and take my shirt from the floor. Then I make my way to the door, trying to avoid as much noise as I can since everyone apart from the Runners seem to be sleeping.

As I step out, I notice it's going to be a sunny day. The sky is blindingly blue, and when the sun will rise, it'll surely be even brighter.

Then I see something that I haven't been able to see earlier, since I'm usually the last one to wake up. Minho and Newt are walking towards the doorway that hasn't opened yet. I put my shirt on, not caring that it stinks a little bit of sweat, and start jogging towards them. Since they're in no hurry, I catch them in no time.

"Hey, Newt! Minho!" They both turn around as they hear my voice, Newt raising his eyebrows questionably.

"Afraid of sleeping late after yesterday's wake-up? I'm impressed," Newt smirks. Oh, right. Yesterday morning Newt decided that I had slept too much, and woke me up by covering my mouth with his hand. Seriously, who does that? I nearly had a heart-attack.

"Shut up, I wasn't even scared," I lie. Then my gaze shifts to Minho, and I ask: "So, you haven't left yet?" Minho rolls his eyes.

"No, I magically walked through the huge wall made of shucking stone because I know how to turn immaterial, Thomas. Seriously, think before you ask, okay?" A slight blush raises to my cheeks.

"I didn't mean…I just thought, I haven't seen you in the mornings earlier," I try to explain, but even I realize what I asked was dumb. Just utterly, plainly dumb.

What can I say, I am _not_ a morning person.

"Wonder why, considering the time you usually wake up," Newt grins.

Then we're next to the Maze's wall – or a wall that soon will turn into a doorway. I stare at it in awe, the height of the thing creeping me out a little.

"What's the point in getting here this early, if it's not even open yet?" I ask. Newt shrugs, but Minho doesn't know how to keep the big mouth of his shut, and replies: "Obviously I was gonna open it with my power of will, but you're kinda ruining the mood here, Tommy."

"It's Thomas, jerk," I grunt, which makes Minho hum amusedly. Newt shakes his head with a smile on his face, and says: "We shouldn't bully the hero of the day when sun hasn't even risen yet, Min." Hero of the day? I raise my eyebrows to the choice of words, but I'm forced to wait till later to ask Newt about it when an oddly familiar screeching splits the air, and we all turn our heads to the giant, moving doors.

It's almost painful how slowly they open, making you want to start pushing them just to make them move quicker. My gaze doesn't tear away from them till they're properly open, and a chilly breeze from inside of the maze greets me as I stare the sight opening before me.

The Maze is…phenomenal. Of course this isn't the first time I'm staring into it, I've stolen glimpses of it every now and then since I got here, but I just can't seem to get enough of it. The hallway is long, walls rising to 250 feet on both sides, making it look extremely gloomy and…even scary, I admit. The walls are partly just bare walls, revealing the cold-looking stonewall in its whole majesty, and partly covered in thick, dark-green climbers.

"Man, doesn't he just get off on looking at the Maze."

"What did I just say, Minho?"

"What? The sun has risen, I can keep bullying him now."

I turn to look at the two boys beside me, and Minho winks at me. Then I realize my mouth's hanging fully open, and I snap it shut. Newt simply shakes his head and pushes Minho closer to the doorway, saying: "Go, you shuckface, you have work to do." He's trying to sound serious, but the smile on his face gives him away. Minho chuckles.

"Aww, you're breaking my heart."

"Nobody likes you Minho. Now, go." He gives Minho a one, final push, making him cross the invisible line between the Glade and the Maze.

Minho pretends to swipe away imaginary tears, waves at me, turns around and starts jogging deeper into the Maze. I look after him for a long time, and when he finally reaches the end of the hallway, he turns around one more time and flips the finger at us. Then he heads left and disappears.

Newt laughs. "A bloody charmer, isn't he." I agree with a hum, and turn around when I hear someone calling Newt's name from behind us.

"Did Minho already leave?" It's a very nice guy I've talked to a couple times, but I can't remember his name. He's the only Runner besides Minho, and even I, the _newbie_ , the loser who doesn't know shit about this place, think that two Runners is not enough.

"Yeah, he did," Newt answers, making what's-his-name sigh.

"Always ahead of us, that shuckface," he murmurs, waves his goodbye and jogs to the Maze. Instead of turning left like Minho did, he goes right, making me wonder if they decide about these kinds of things before going to the Maze or if they just go with the flow.

After the Runner has disappeared behind the corner, I ask Newt his name.

"Oh, that's Leo," the blonde answers, ruffling his hair lazily. "Shuck, we should hurry or the Builders will eat all the breakfast," he continues. I know that's not exactly true; the Builders are still sleeping like almost everyone else, but when Newt starts walking towards the Food House I follow him anyway.

Yup, the _Food House._ You'd think after spending two years here the Gladers would've had time to come up with a _little_ cooler name for a dining hall than friggin' 'Food House', but no.

"Newt, the Runners are the ones who could find the way out of here. Why's there only two of them?" I finally ask the question that has been burning inside my head for days. Newt glances at me and shrugs.

"There was more of them before. But…we manage," he simply says.

I frown. "But why _is_ there only two? Like, wouldn't more Runners mean better odds for us to get out?"

"Look," Newt sighs, exasperation clear in his voice, "I told you; we manage. Now slim it."

I decide to press his patience a little more, because I suddenly feel like I can't keep my Runner thoughts to myself any longer.

"I wanna be a Runner."

Newt's eyes meet mine, and a nervous laughter escapes his throat.

"Sure."

For a slight moment I think _oh, that was easy_ but then I realize. He thinks I'm kidding.

"No, but I really want to, you know. Be a Runner."

There's an odd look in Newt's dark-brown eyes as he stares at me.

"Nobody bloody wants to be a Runner, Tommy. That means going into the Maze," He points out, his gaze shifting back to the house we're headed to. "Shuck, I wish Fry has some bacon for us. His bacon's the best," he then continues, totally changing the subject. That usual smirk in his voice seems to be gone, and although he tries to smile, it looks slightly fake. Frustrated that he doesn't take me seriously I grab his arm, forcing him to stop.

"Newt. I wanna be a Runner, I've wanted since the first day. I know the Maze isn't all cupcakes and rainbows but I just have this _feeling_ –"

" _Shut up!_ You have bloody no idea what you're talking about, no buggin' idea! You don't know what's in there. Trust me when I say you _don't want to go into the Maze_ ," Newt snarls, and I'm taken aback by the angry tone in his voice. The playful, kind shimmer I've grown to note in his eyes during these five days is gone, replaced by frustration and – and if I didn't know better, I'd say fear. But this is friggin' _Newt_ we're talking about, he doesn't _fear_ things.

Does he?

"But I – "

"I said _slim it._ Now, if I hear any more of your stupid bullshit about being a Runner, I'll buggin' throw you to the Stammer for a week," he says, snatching his arm from my grasp, and storms away.

I'm having a hard time understanding what just happened. Sure, I've only been here for five days, but during those days Newt's been the one I've most hung out with. It might have something to do with the fact in the beginning Newt was the only one to treat me like I wasn't special, but with him I feel the most relaxed. Without my own noticing, I've grown to be kind of close with him in such a short amount of time.

And this is the first time he's stormed out on me. I know I haven't been the most patient newbie here, asking questions all the time and all, but even when others have given up and gotten annoyed with me, Newt has always just laughed it off and changed the subject. This is the first time he didn't do so. And only because I told him about my desire to become a Runner?

If this was a movie, I'd chase after Newt and forgive for – for whatever the hell it was that I did, or something as cheesy as that. But instead, I decide to leave Newt alone for now, since well, I am pretty hungry. Not like I'm going to solve anything by standing still and doing nothing. And I think if somebody storms out of a scene, it's pretty damn clear he wants to be left alone.

And – okay, I'll admit it – because I'm among the first ones to wake up, I might actually get to taste Frypan's morning bacons, just like Newt said. I hurry to the Food House, and as usual, an overwhelmingly good smell of food greets me.

I hum happily, going straight to the desk where Frypan and his helpers stack the food, and _Bingo!_ There's bacon.

"Hey, Greenie," Frypan greets as he pushes through the kitchen door, his hands full of cups and bowls. I hurry to help him with them before one of them drops and cracks, and Frypan smiles thankfully.

"Morning," I answer, and snatch a piece of bacon from one of the bowls. "Wow, these are really friggin' tasty!"

Frypan chuckles. "Use a plate, you shank," he says, and then glances over my shoulder with a confused look on his face. "Newt's not with you?"

I shrug and steal another bacon. "Haven't seen him," I lie, reaching for some more bacon when Frypan slaps my hand away and grunts " _use a plate"_ , offering me one just to make me stop being a pig.

"Weird, usually he's already eating by now."

I simply nod, humming "weird" and start to stack food on my bowl. Gotta take advantage of being awake this early, right? Frypan frowns and disappears back to the kitchen as I start searching for a place to sit. Considering all the chairs are empty, it doesn't take me long to decide.

I must admit, eating alone sucks. Sure, it's nice and quiet – except it's not nice at all. I can hear my own munching disturbingly loudly when there's nobody babbling by my ear, and it's really making me feel like a fat-ass. Ridiculous, I know, I'm only doing what I must to survive, but when you eat alone, you have all the time in the world to think about those awful munching sounds you make and how the food smashes inside your own mouth. As I swallow, I can only think " _That must look stupid."_

God, I _need_ company.

Fortunately I don't have to wait long for it – I've been in the Food House for maybe five minutes when Zart and Chuck storm in, followed by a bunch of others who I don't know by name. When Chuck notices me, a wide grin appears on his face.

"Thomas! I was wondering where you'd be," he calls out. He goes to get some food, and quickly takes the place on the opposite of me. Zart comes sit next to me after taking some breakfast himself, and some others join our table, too.

"Morning," I greet them, and Chuck only nods, being unable to speak with his mouth full of a bacon sandwich. Zart investigates the Food House with his eyes and then looks at me.

"Where's Newt?" He asks, raising other one of his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't know," I shrug, lowering my gaze to my half-empty bowl.

"What do you mean you wouldn't know? Usually you're pretty much glued to his side."

I frown. "No, I'm not."

"Uhm, yeah, you kinda are," this time it's Chuck who's speaking, still chewing food and making it hard to understand what he's saying. I shake my head, huffing.

"Sure, I've maybe eaten with the guy like once or twice but its' not like I'm – like I'm _glued_ to him," I deny, because okay, I've spent a lot time with Newt on the Glade, but what's the point? I've spent time with others, too.

"Dude – more like pretty shucking impossible to spot you eating without him," Zart says, and Chuck hums in agreement.

I'm just about to answer something denying, when Alby walks to our table, yawning widely. "Morning, shanks."

"Morning," all of us who aren't furiously chewing on a sandwich at the moment answer. Alby asks Zart something about the gardens, and I mute them for a while in my thoughts. I'm supposed to be working with Zart and the other Track-hoes today, but since I'm not even a proper Track-hoe – and hopefully never will be because I want to be a friggin' _Runner_ – I decide it can't be anything important for me.

Then I feel Zart nudging me lightly, and I look at him, puzzled. "What?"

Zart nods towards our leader, who's leaning against our table, looking amused.

"I was just surprised to see you up this early, but I take that back – looks like you're pretty much sleeping at the moment," he chuckles, and a slight blush rises to my cheeks.

"Oh, no, I was just thinking," I answer, and Alby just nods.

"Also, where's Newt? He usually eats with you," he continues, and I feel like I could use a facepalm right now.

"Seriously, what _is it_ with everybody thinking I know where friggin' Newt is? Because _I don't_ ," and I'm not even trying to hide the exasperation in my voice. Zart and Alby chuckle, and Alby waves his hand in a _'forget-about-it'_ kind of way. I roll my eyes and continue to eat while the others keep babbling around me.

* * *

"So, you're with us today, right?" Zart double-checks as we exit the Food House together. I nod, and raise my hand to cover my eyes from the blinding sunlight. It's going to be a hot day.

"How have you liked the other things you've done here so far?" Zart asks, and I shrug.

"I started with the Slicers, and it was…uhm…well, I'd rather not see a pig get slaughtered again. Like, ever," I admit, and Zart squirts.

"Yeah…that's pretty shucking nasty. Dunno how the Slicers can handle with all that blood and guts…but on the other hand, it's Winston, Billy and Tim," he says. Even with my only five-day-long experience, I think he has a point. Winston, Billy and Tim are Slicers, and they _are_ kind of scary in a way. At least they're definitely the least sensitive type of people around here. Thoughts like "Oh my God that poor _piggy_ " have probably never gone through their minds. I like them all, especially Winston and Tim, even though they seem a little crazy every now and then.

"I was with Frypan after that, and although I liked working with him and the others I don't exactly have any skills in the kitchen. I think Frypan was pretty friggin' ready to throw his frypan out of the window after my two days' trial with him," I continue. Zart chuckles.

"Yeah…don't be offended about it, though. That's how he's with everyone who comes near ' _his kitchen_ '. Even Frankie and Adam are forbidden to actually _cook_ anything, and they _work_ there. I think Frypan's afraid that anyone who comes near the oven will explode the whole place."

I give a laugh because even though I don't know Frypan so well yet, I feel like that's exactly how he's with it.

We reach the gardening area, and Zart turns to face me. "Okay, so basically all we do is grow and harvest. Go grab a trowel and start root out all the weeds you spot."

I stare at Zart blankly – having no idea what a _trowel_ looks like, let alone weeds. I mean, I know what weeds _are_ but how am I going to be able to spot the difference between weeds and plants?

Zart sighs, noticing my puzzled expression, and motions me to follow him. "C'mon, I'll show you."

I follow him to a small, wooden hovel which is full of different kinds of gardening equipment. I have no idea what half of them are, but Zart just grabs a small shovel-like thing and hands it to me. We go outside and he leads me to a small gardening patch.

He kneels down, and I follow the example. "This is where we grow beans. This, look, is a bean," he points at a plant pushing through the soil, "so leave alone everything that looks like this. Pretty much everything else is weeds, so just rip them off and throw them to a wheelbarrow. And before you get to ask where you can find a wheelbarrow; there," Zart finishes, pointing at the wooden hovel. I nod.

"I'll be over there to deal with the tomatoes, so if anything comes in mind, you know where I am."

With that being said he stands up and leaves me alone. I sigh, and start looking for weeds. It's actually pretty friggin' scary since I'm not a hundred percent sure which ones are the bean plants and which are not. After maybe ten minutes of silent working, a shadow appears above me and covers me from the sun.

"Well, aren't you a bloody green thumb," and I know who it is before I turn around to check. Newt stands behind me, looking at my work with his hands crossed and his mouth turned into a smile.

I'm not sure how to act since the last time didn't end well, but Newt just sits on the other side of the patch and takes the trowel off my hands.

"Looks like you're gonna have to get another one," he points out, and I stare at him, feeling dumbfounded.

"Cat got your bloody tongue?" He asks, rolling his dark-colored eyes. I shake my head and get up, heading to the hovel to get a new trowel.

So…apparently he's not mad at me or anything. And I was beginning to plan a ' _forgive-me_ ' speech.

With a new trowel I go back to the bean patch, where Newt is already working. I kneel down and pick up where I left off.

"So, about before…" I start, but Newt silences me with a glare.

"Forget about it."

"But I just –"

"I said forget it."

We work together in silence for maybe one minute, but unfortunately I don't seem to know when to shut up.

"But I just need to know why –"

"Tommy _,_ " Newt growls dangerously, but I ignore him.

"– why you got so pissed, off, what it _was_ that I said that made you so angry –"

" _Tommy –_ "

"– because this Runner thing? I'm friggin' _serious_ about it!"

Newt grows silent. His eyes are closed, and he slowly shakes his head. Both of our trowels lie on the ground, the bean patch being totally forgotten.

And if a part of me feels ashamed of my sudden outburst, it's too late for that.

"You are nothing but a bloody _greenie_ _ **,**_ Tommy. You've been here for five days and you act like you know shucking everything? Well, news flash for you – you _don't_. You don't know shit. So do you _mind_ keeping those bloody stupid ideas inside that big head of yours?" Newt snarls, and I'd be lying if I said him calling me ' _nothing but a bloody greenie_ ' doesn't hurt a little. My throat feels very dry suddenly, and I swallow, trying to get some moist in there.

The glimpse of something incredibly harsh disappears from Newt's face, and he looks down, seeming hesitant for some reason. Then he continues, with a kinder voice; "Also, you don't just _choose_ to be a Runner. You have to prove to be worthy, and then you get chosen by the Keepers. It's not easy, and it's definitely not a fast process."

I blink, not knowing what to say. Newt just gave me information about becoming a Runner, even though the dislike towards the subject is more than clear in him. I don't know what to say, but I'm grateful. Just when I'm about to thank him, he starts talking again.

"Shuck, we should get back to work before Zart notices. He _hates_ slackers," he chuckles, and I have to admit he's right. The silence continues for a little while, until I remember something Newt mentioned in the morning.

"Hey, Newt, why did you call me the hero of the day earlier?"

Newt looks at me with a puzzled expression. "Yeah, the Bonfire's tonight."

"What Bonfire?"

"Seriously? Didn't anyone tell you?"

I flash him a ' _now who's asking stupid questions'_ look, and he shrugs.

"We're having a Bonfire party tonight. For you. Well, we always have a party when we get a new greenie, but anyway. So you're the hero of the day," he explains. I get an anxious feeling over the fact that they're kind of celebrating _me_ , but Newt notices my look and waves his hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it, you're really just an excuse for us to have some fun and some of Gally's horrible drink," Newt chuckles. I sigh in relief.

I'm just about to ask about 'Gally's horrible drink' when a loud, piercing siren cuts through the air. Newt bounces to his feet, his posture making him look like a deer caught in headlights.

Something clicks inside my head. "Hey, I know that sound. It's the –"

"The Box, yeah." Newt looking at the direction where the Box is, frozen to his feet.

I stand up, too, as a weird, tingling sensation spreads from the tip of my toes to my neck.

"It's too early," Newt mumbles under his breath, frowning harder than I've ever seen.

"What do you mean? You told me the Box comes up every month, to bring supplies, and so on," I point out, utterly confused of the blonde's reaction. Newt shakes his head furiously.

"Yeah, no, but it's too early. It shouldn't come yet." He starts walking towards the Box, where I can see others are heading now, too, and I follow him.

"So? Maybe they decided we need more stuff," I offer an explanation, but Newt just glances at me quickly before returning his gaze back to the Box. The noise is getting louder, sounding distractingly lot like an alarm.

"They've never done that, why would they now? The Box has _never_ come too early, nor late. It's always the same day, like a bloody clock."

"So…what's happening?"

Newt stops and grabs my hand, making me stare straight into his dark-brown eyes.

And that's _definitely_ a glimpse of fear I see in his eyes.

"Something's wrong."

* * *

 _ **END OF CHAPTER 2**_

* * *

Ta-da.

Things are proceeding! As you noticed, I decided it'd be unnecessarily boring to write about _every_ day with Thomas being all newbie. That's why I started from day 5 instead of day 2. Also, I added an own character, too. Can you guess where Leo's name comes from? ;)

Beat me up, have no mercy! Hate, love, give it to me!


	3. Chapter 3

Now beta'd by the incredible fixusi! :*

By the way, Leo's name comes from Leonardo Da Vinci, as ProngsPotter22 successfully guessed ;)

Also, I'd like to thank you all so much for reviewing and favoriting/following my story. You have no idea how much it means to me. (or if you're a writer youself, you do have an idea, actually)

And I must add that I just _loved_ writing this chapter. It's a little bit longer than the first two chapters (whoopz) but I'm sure you don't mind!

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 3**_

* * *

We are among the first ones to reach the Box. Everyone's having the same confused, dumbfounded expression on their faces.

"Newt, what's happening?" Chuck, who has gotten there before us, squeaks, and others turn to look at Newt, too. The fact that Newt's second-in-command apparently makes everyone think he has all the answers. He shrugs, and the siren slowly grows silent, letting us know the elevator has arrived.

"I don't know any more than you shanks," he answers, and steps forward. "Tommy, Gally, help me with the doors," he continues. By 'doors' he means the giant, door-like hatches that cover the elevator hole.

I hurry to the other hatch as Gally, who has just arrived, reaches for the other. We grab them at the same time and lift them up, revealing what's inside the Box to everyone else. It's so heavy that I have to struggle to get it fully open, but I manage, and then the hole is wide open.

"What is it?" Chuck asks, although he's already making his way closer to see inside. Newt has already crouched next to the hole, and he's staring into the Box with a blank expression.

"It's…it's a new greenie," he answers, sounding utterly confused. "And it's, uhm…I think it's a girl."

The reveal makes us all speechless. Getting a new greenie this early is already weird, but getting a girl-greenie? That's just insane. There are no girls in the Glade, and according to Newt, there has never been.

Why now?

I rush to Newt's side and stare into the hole. It's definitely a girl, her long, black hair covering some of her face. I don't remember the girls I've met before my memory got erased, but I can tell she's very pretty.

Newt jumps down to the bottom of the Box, and kneels next to the girl.

"Why is she lying down? Is she –" one of the Track-hoes, Archie, starts, but doesn't finish the question that's burning in all of our thoughts. Newt reaches towards the girl's neck, probably to check her pulse, but suddenly she jolts awake, giving us all a shock. Newt immediately backs off, but she doesn't attack him or anything, she just lies in the bottom of the Box and lets her gaze wander on all of our faces.

To my horror, the gaze stops when it reaches me, and the only thing she mumbles before she passes out is "Thomas".

I stare at her long after she's lost her consciousness, my mouth hanging fully open, and it's then when I realize everyone's staring at me.

Great.

She just _had_ to randomly wake up and make me look incredibly suspicious by calling my name like that. _Totally_ logical.

Then Newt looks up from where he's still crouching beside the girl.

"Tommy– do you know her?" And I'm digging my memories as I'm staring at Newt, trying to find any kind of recognition from my brains, but I can't find anything.

I can't help feeling relieved.

"No," I shake my head, "not that I remember, anyway."

"You sure? 'Cause she definitely seems to know _you_."

"I'm sure," I answer, and I _am_ sure. Nothing about her seems familiar to me – although I must confess that her recognizing me _does_ raise uncomfortable questions.

Newt nods, and asks Gally to hop down and help him with the girl. Some of us get closer to the edge as others stay gathered around the Box, and with mine, Ben's and Archie's help they actually manage to get her out of the elevator. We put her on the ground, and that's when Archie notices that her hand is tightly curled over something. He gently opens the grip and reveals a small piece of paper.

"What is it?" Gally impatiently demands to know, and Archie stares at the paper long enough to make Gally tired of waiting. Without asking he snatches the piece of paper from Archie's hands and reads out loud the short writing.

"She's the last one ever."

And that must be the quietest moment in the Glade so far.

Newt finally takes the paper and eyes it suspiciously, as if Gally might've misunderstood a letter or two. His furrowed brows and the way his lips are pressed tightly together are enough to tell us Gally read it perfectly right.

"Wha– what does that _mean_?"

"Yeah, like the last _greenie_ ever or the last time the Box comes up?"

"But how could we survive without the supplies?"

The atmosphere explodes with questions and panicked voices, and I notice Newt pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, before yelling: "Would you bloody _shut up?"_

The hustle calms down a little, everyone, including me, staring at Newt. He licks his lips nervously, trying to find the right words.

"I think we should just bloody calm down and think about this for a minute before jumping into hasty conclusions, okay?" Everyone seems to agree with the second-in-command – or maybe it's just pure respect – and Newt nods to himself. "Okay, so here's what's gonna happen. Chuck, go get a hammock – easier to carry her to Homestead with it," he continues, barely getting the words out of his mouth when Chuck's already running towards the Homestead.

Then Newt turns to look at me. "Ben, Tommy – you carry her to Homestead when Chuck comes back with the hammock, okay?" I nod, and Ben grunts something agreeing on my right side.

"Archie, go find Jeff or Clint, and you," he points at a Glader I don't recognize, "make sure the doors get closed, in case the Box could still go down. I'm gonna go find our shucking fearless leader and ask him how in bloody _hell_ he managed to not hear the shucking siren. And show him the paper," Newt adds with an unpleased expression on his face, obviously pissed that Alby hasn't appeared to the scene. With that being said he turns around and disappears to look for him.

Archie hurries to go find one of the med-jacks while Ben, Gally and I are left to do nothing until Chuck comes back, so we just stare at the girl. I have an uncomfortable, nagging feeling on the pit of my stomach, and I have no idea why.

But I do know something about the girl's making me nervous as hell.

Suddenly Chuck arrives running, a hammock on his hands. We don't speak as we put the hammock on the ground and lift the black-haired girl to lie on it instead. Ben goes to grab it from the front, and I stay on the back. Together we lift her up, and start carrying her towards the Homestead, leaving Gally and Chuck behind.

At first we stay quiet and I'm facing the back of Ben's skull, but then he turns his head to stare at me.

I'm shocked of the murderous look that he sends me.

"Don't think I'll forget how she called _your_ name when she woke up," he growls, glaring at me furiously. "The moment I saw you I knew there was something wrong with you."

"What? There's nothing wrong with me!" I deny, totally confused by his sudden act. I knew Ben wasn't exactly _fond_ of me, looking a little annoyed every time he got to the same place with me, but he hasn't been this hostile until now.

"Right, sure, why wouldn't I believe you?" He gives an evil laugh, and I get chills when I look into his dead eyes. "I know you're hiding something, and I'm gonna find out what. Sooner or later."

Then he turns his gaze to Archie and Clint, who I suddenly notice are running towards us, and I don't get a chance to defend myself as they reach us.

"Come, let's take her upstairs," Clint orders. My mind keeps buzzing over the things Ben said to me, and before I even know it we're at the Homestead.

With a little help from both Clint and Archie we carry the girl upstairs, and put her on one of the proper beds. Clint immediately takes control and starts checking multiple different things, as we others stand back.

"I guess we're done here," Ben says, and I swear the way he bumps into my side as he walks past me isn't accidental.

After he's gone, Archie turns his gaze from the girl and Clint to me. Since he's at least half a foot shorter than me, he has to look up as he looks at me.

"Are you worried? About what she said," he adds, when he sees my puzzled expression. I feel kind of strange about speaking with him about this, since I haven't really had a proper conversation with the guy yet, but from what I've seen he seems nice enough.

I shrug. "I wasn't lying, you know. I really don't remember her," I answer.

"I didn't mean it like that. I believe you," Archie quickly nods, his longish brown hair almost covering his eyes. "I just mean, I'd be shucking _terrified_ if I was you. But I guess I'm not as brave as you, anyway," he chuckles, and I immediately decide I like him.

And not _only_ because he seems to think of me as a brave person, although that _is_ a nice plus.

"Well, this beats working with the bean patch," I point out, making Archie snort. He's one of the Track-hoes like Zart, so I guess I'll be seeing a lot of him during my trial with them.

"What is this complaining I'm hearing?" A deep voice interrupts us, and Alby steps in, Newt following behind him. Luckily Alby is an easy-going guy, and we know he won't mind us joking around.

The dark-skinned leader takes a step closer to the girl, and something unrecognizable flashes in his eyes as he glances at her. Then he turns to look at Clint. "Well? What do you say?"

Clint only shrugs. "I'm no real doctor, you know that. But I'd say other than being unconscious, she seems fine."

Alby nods approvingly. "Is there anything we can do to wake her up?"

"No," the med-jack answers, "not with the supplies we have. We're just gonna have to wait for her to wake up on her own – _if_ she wakes up, that is."

Another nod. "So that's what we're gonna do. We wait 'til she wakes up, and then ask her what she knows and remembers. I don't want her to be left alone for a _second_."

"Sure," Clint says, "but right now Jeff and I are having a lunchtime, so someone else will have to watch for her 'til we come back. Newt?"

Newt opens his mouth to answer, but Alby's deep voice interrupts him. "I can take care of that – I'll watch over her."

"Nah Alby, you shouldn't waste your time to something like –"

"I said I'll do it."

I glance at Alby, surprised by how he insists watching over the girl, since he always seems to have so much stuff to do. And it's not like watching her is rocket science – anyone would be capable of doing that.

Newt shrugs like it's no big deal, and exits the room, Archie and Clint following not far behind.

I take a last glance to Alby, who's now standing by the girl's bed, staring at her with a seriously weird expression on his face.

"Tommy, c'mon," I hear Newt's voice, and before Alby gets to turn around and notice my staring I leave the room and head downstairs.

* * *

"I guess we should go back to the gardens," Newt sighs when we're back outside, his face revealing just how willing he is to get back to the patches.

As in _not willing at all._

"Really? But…this _is_ a special day…" Archie whines, making me remember the whole Bonfire party thing. I wonder if they're still going to throw the party after all that's happened.

"No can do, shank, work before the fun," Newt says, smirking, and Archie makes a pouty face.

"C'mon Arch, it's not that bad. Just a couple more hours is enough. Hey, why don't you go ahead, Gally said he wanted to speak with me and Tommy," the second-in-command continues, grabbing my arm to stop me, and Archie rolls his eyes before continuing without us. I turn to look at Newt with a questioning look on my face.

"So, what does Gally want with us?" I ask, and Newt shakes his head. "Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you. You look a little pale, are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, sure, I'm fine," I answer, and try really hard to ignore the warm feeling that spreads through my body because of the fact Newt's worrying about me.

"But she did say your name, you gotta admit that's a little scary," Newt points out.

And maybe it's the kind shine in his eyes that once again makes me trust him enough to tell what I'm _really_ feeling.

"Well," I start, hesitating, "It _is_ weird. And– I don't know, something about her makes me– makes me kinda nervous. Not just the fact he said _my_ name."

Newt nods, looking worried.

"I know what you mean. Something's bloody wrong and I just _know_ she has something to do with that. I…I don't think she's like us."

"Well, she _is_ a girl, if you didn't happen to notice," I smirk, and Newt snorts.

"You know I didn't mean that, you bloody shuck. I just mean…I don't know. I don't think she's a victim of this like us, you know?" And I _do_ know, because that's exactly how I feel, too.

"But hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll get some answers once she wakes up, and it's not like anyone's thinking you're responsible of anything, even if she said your stupid name," Newt tries to assure me, but I just scoff.

"Yeah, well, except for Ben, maybe."

"Ben?" Newt's looking puzzled, and I realize that he has no idea of the little _friendly_ chat I had with Ben.

For some reason I'd like to keep it that way – I guess I don't want Newt thinking I'm trying to talk shit about his friends behind their backs.

"Uhm, nothing. We'd better get going before Zart comes to hunt for our sorry asses," I try to change the subject, but I should've known the blonde wouldn't be so easily distracted. He grabs my hand again as I try to turn around, preventing me from leaving.

"No, you idiot, stop hiding things and spit it out," he orders, and I sigh.

"It really is nothing," I try assuring him, but he sends me a look that really leaves me no other options than to tell him.

"Okay, but it _really_ is nothing. I don't even know why I brought it up –"

" _Tommy –_ "

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Um, well, we were carrying the girl towards the Homestead, and Ben suddenly got all hostile and said stupid shit like 'I know you're hiding something' and 'There's something wrong with you' and – well, long story short, he thinks I'm responsible for – for what the hell ever he thinks I'm responsible for."

Newt looks baffled.

"What? _Ben_ said that?"

"Yeah. Why is it so weird?"

Newt shrugs, scratching his neck. "I dunno – Ben's a good guy, I don't get why he would act like that."

"Well, didn't seem a good guy then," I blurt, annoyed for some reason.

"Chill, Tommy – I'm not taking his side. I just don't get why he's being an ass," the blonde says reassuringly.

"Just gotta hope the others don't turn on me like he did," I sigh, but Newt just shakes his head like it's no problem at all.

"C'mon, of course they bloody won't. They're not _idiots_. And," he continues, "If I'll be there to have your back, what do you have to worry?"

And the playful smile on his face would be bright enough to blind people, I swear.

I press my lips together, totally unsure of what to answer, but then Newt tugs my hand – of which he's still having a good grip, apparently – and says: "Anyway, now we _really_ have to go. I think I can _hear_ Zart's pissed thoughts all the way from the gardens."

I chuckle, and that being said he starts walking, dragging me behind. For some reason that is the moment when my gaze lowers to his left leg and I notice that he's limping. I mean, I guess he's been limping for the whole time I've been around, but I've been so caught up with everything else that I haven't noticed earlier that he actually limps a _lot_.

It doesn't look too painful, but it must be the reason why Newt never rushes anywhere – and here I thought he just likes the slow walks or hates running. I'm an ass.

I make a note to ask him about it later, if I get an opportunity, and promise myself I'll never so much as friggin' _jog_ if I'm with Newt.

And my brains being filled with all the guilty thoughts, I only vaguely notice that Newt doesn't release my hand until we're almost at the bean patches again.

* * *

The rest of the day goes quickly. I work with the Track-hoes for a couple hours – just like Newt promised to Archie – and go to eat with them after that. The whole afternoon passes without any interesting happenings – if Frypan winking "Nice to see Thomas hasn't abandoned you, after all" to Newt doesn't count. How many times do I have to tell the damn cook I'm perfectly capable of eating alone, too?

After enjoying a lunch with the other Gladers I leave the Food House, because I really feel like taking a nap. Or ten.

I go to my hammock and sit on the edge of it for a moment when I realize there's something I need to do before taking that nap. I stand back up and instead of heading to the entrance of the Homestead, I go to the opposite direction – towards the stairs.

Although I really don't feel like going back to her, I feel like I _have_ to check she's still sleeping before I can sleep myself. The thought of her being awake and fully conscious is scary, I admit. And if she's awake and telling _who knows what_ to everyone, I don't want to be sleeping and miss it without getting a chance to defend myself.

Yeah…I guess after the chat with Ben I'm just scared she'll remember something about me that I don't want to remember.

So I go upstairs, quietly, making my way to the doorway. When I take a careful peek to the room, my first reaction is _relief_ – she's still lying on the bed, eyes shut, far away from this world.

But then my gaze wanders to the person who's sitting next to her bed and– it's Alby?

Why is _Alby_ here? I mean, I know he offered to stay with the girl until Jeff or Clint would get back, but that was friggin' _ages_ ago. How come he is still here? There must be something more important for him to do than _this_.

And by _this_ I mean – he's just sitting there, leaning his chin to his crossed hands, staring at the girl. He's not doing anything else. Just sitting.

Man, if that isn't creepy.

Even more quietly than before I back off from the doorway, and go back downstairs, to my hammock. As I lie down I'm pretty sure I won't be able to catch any sleep – my brains are _way_ too active now, filled with pictures of Alby sitting next to a comatose girl.

But somewhere between thinking about Newt's limp and _man I'd die if I woke up to find Alby staring at me_ , my eyes fall shut and I go out like a light.

* * *

"I'm gonna kill you."

Newt would probably answer something cocky if he wasn't dying of laughter next to my empty, swaying hammock. The reason why it's empty is because Newt _friggin'_ thought it'd be hilarious to wake me up by covering my mouth with his hand – _again_. I was in such a deep sleep that when I felt something on my mouth, I jolted up like an electrocuted person and fell from my hammock.

Which, if I may add, Newt thinks is even _more_ hilarious.

"I'm _seriously_ gonna kill you," I growl, and Newt's laughing so hard his eyes get all watery. He offers a hand, but I ignore it, getting up from the floor by myself. The back of my skull is aching – again – from an impact with the floor.

"Wow, I can literally _hear_ the sound of Thomas rolling his eyes all the way from here," somebody says from the doorway, and then Minho jogs inside. He's a little out of breath and I can see the sweat on his forehead, so he's probably just come back from the Maze.

Newt's wiping his eyes, not turning away from me. "I'm sorry, Tommy, I couldn't help myself," he manages to say once he's done laughing his ass off. Minho stares at my furious form and Newt's amused expression, rising his eyebrows.

"So, what did he do this time?" The Asian asks. I squint as I stare at Newt murderously.

"Scared the hell out of me," I snarl, but Newt just smiles, bumping his fist gently to my shoulder.

"Aww, c'mon, Tommy, it wasn't that bad," he denies, and I roll my eyes so hard I'm afraid they're going to pop out. I can hear Minho chuckling behind Newt.

"Anyway, you shucks, I came to inform you the Bonfire's about to start. Care to join your own party, _Tommy_?" Minho asks, and I'm about to object when I glance at the windows and notice the sun's actually about to set.

I frown, surprised it's evening already. Looks like my nap turned out to be a little longer than I thought.

"How long was I out? And it's _Thomas_ ," I correct the Asian, and Newt shrugs, answering: "I dunno, maybe four hours? The doors are closing soon."

"What, so I don't get to call you Tommy? I'm hurt," Minho says with a faked hurt expression, and I'm confused.

"No, _nobody_ gets to call me Tommy, because that's not my _name_ ," I deny, and now it's Minho's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, right. Because _he_ always calls you Thomas," he blurts, nudging at Newt as he says 'he'.

"What?" I'm really puzzled now. "Newt doesn't call me– he calls…calls me Thomas?" The rest of the sentence kind of turns into a question as I notice the _really, dude_ expression on both Newt's and Minho's faces.

"Dude, I call you Tommy all the time," Newt states while Minho's nodding in the background.

"What? No, you –"

"C'mon, _princess_ , let's shucking go. I don't wanna be late," Minho whines, grabbing the back of the second-in-command's shirt to drag him outside of the building. Newt smacks his hand away with a smile, and I have no other options than to follow them, my mind buzzing with confusion as Newt and Minho chat together, quietly.

Newt doesn't call me _Tommy_. I would've noticed if he did.

Right?

* * *

It's not a Bonfire party just because of the name – the Gladers actually have gathered together enough dry branches and wood to make a huge bonfire, at least eight feet tall. I must admit I'm kind of impressed by the size of it, and I can't wait to see it on fire – it's going to be phenomenal.

"When are we gonna light it up?" I ask Newt and Minho, as we're standing by the bonfire. Leo, the other Runner, has just made it out from the Maze and is jogging towards us, and pretty much everyone else is gathered somewhere near us.

Minho shrugs. "I guess after the doors have closed," the Asian answers, and I nod. Sounds logical.

Then Leo reaches us, bumping his fist into Minho's chest and panting "You left without me again, you slinthead" and they start chatting together about their day spent in the Maze. I point my gaze to the sky instead, where the last beams of sun have taken over. It's a matter of seconds, now, before the doors close, as they tend to close when sun has set.

And very well, after maybe half a minute the familiar screeching noise interrupts my thoughts, and the massive walls begin to shut. I stare at them until they slam tightly together, and then turn to look at the bonfire again.

"Now?" I ask hopefully, and Newt chuckles.

"Aren't you bloody eager, like you've never seen a bonfire before."

"Well, not that I remember, anyway," I blurt out, and he snorts amusedly.

"Point taken. Hey, Gally, should we light it up now?"

Gally, who's standing next to the bonfire too, shrugs. Then he takes a step closer and crouches down, starting to light up the matches.

Yeah, apparently whoever it was who put us all here decided we need matches to survive. I'm not complaining, though, pretty damn grateful actually. It'd take _ages_ to set up a fire in a caveman style.

Gally gets the fire to start, and little by little it starts spreading through the dry branches. Before we know it, the whole thing's on fire.

Minho whistles on my right side, and Newt nudges my shoulder. "Pretty cool, huh?"

I nod. "Pretty friggin' cool," I admit, making both Minho and Newt chuckle. They only give me seconds to stare at the fire before deciding it's time for Gally's drink, and start dragging me towards a table somebody has brought outside. It's covered in different sized of bottles and the liquid inside of them really doesn't look appealing.

Leo appears to my other side, taking an empty cup and filling it to the top. He winks at my doubtful expression and takes a long gulp, humming in satisfaction. Newt and Minho do the same, filling a fourth cup and offering it to me.

"Um…what's in it?" I hesitatingly ask before accepting the cup that's being offered to me. Minho and Newt probably think I don't notice the quick glance they send each other but I _do_ , and it's definitely not making me feel any more willing to taste the liquid.

"That's something you'll have to ask Gally, we have no idea. No, don't smell it," Newt quickly adds and prevents me from from sniffing the cup by placing his hand on top of it, "It's best if you just take a sip and gulp it down."

I raise my eyebrows, but all three of them are staring at me with such expectant expressions that I just can't bring myself to chicken out. I lift the cup to my lips and take a long sip –

And spit it all out half a second later.

Newt, Minho and Leo all burst into laughter, and I'm pretty sure there's some of the liquid in my _nose_.

"This shank's awesome," Leo chuckles, before he fills his cup again and leaves, saying something about finding Winston on his way.

"Here, wipe your shucky face," Minho smirks while offering me a piece of paper, and Newt steals the cup from my hands before the rest of the liquid spills to the ground, too. Then he fills my cup again, totally ignoring my "Newt, seriously, no" comments, and hands the cup back to me.

"You just have to get used to it, don't be a bloody baby," he laughs, and I roll my eyes but accept the cup anyway. After both Minho and Newt have their cups filled too, we leave the table and go find a place to sit. It's getting darker and darker every minute and I _really_ like watching the warming bonfire, so I suggest we sit somewhere near it. Newt shrugs approvingly, but Minho complains that it'll get too hot and leads us to a big log. It's not exactly next to the bonfire but I don't really mind enough to object.

Minho sits to the ground and leans to the log, and I follow his example. Newt sits next to me and for a little while we just sit there, not saying a word, Newt and Minho enjoying their drinks. I stare at mine for a moment until Newt nudges me with his elbow, saying: "C'mon, it won't bite you," and I venture to take a new gulp.

This time I'll only take a small sip, though, since I know what kind of shit the drink really is, and I actually manage to get it all down. Minho whistles and Newt pats me on my shoulder, yelling: "You go, girl!" And although the drink still tastes like _shit_ , I have to admit I kind of like the aftermath of it – the tingling, warm feeling that spreads through my whole body. I'm the most surprised one when I lift the cup to take another gulp, a little bigger this time.

Time passes by and Minho makes two rounds to fill our cups before deciding to take a whole bottle of Gally's drink with him instead. The more I drink, the warmer I feel.

At some point Minho disappears to find Leo, and Newt and I are left alone. We talk about stupid, useless shit and he tells me such hilarious Minho-stories that my eyes get all watery from laughing. I'm having so much fun that I don't even have time to marvel how I'm able to have fun in a situation like ours – trapped in the middle of a giant Maze with no way to get out.

Newt's leaning against me, his head lying on my shoulder and his hair annoyingly tingling my neck. For some reason I don't mind at all.

My hand is on his right leg, making circles around his knee, and I suddenly remember a thought from earlier today.

"Hey, Newt," I start, "Why do you limp?"

Newt sighs, and I feel his warm breath against my neck. For a moment I think he's fallen asleep or just doesn't want to answer my question, but then he says: "I hurt myself in the Maze."

It takes a moment for me to realize what's wrong in his answer.

"The _Maze_? But only –"

"Runners get to go to the Maze, yeah."

Okay, now I'm utterly confused.

"But…you're not…" I start, and he interrupts me again.

"Well, I was. A long time ago. But then I– Then something happened, and because I could no longer run, I couldn't be a Runner anymore," he tells me, and I don't know what to say. It makes me so confusingly _sad_ to hear that Newt used to be a Runner, because that means he _really_ wanted to do that back then. And now, because of some stupid accident, he's unable to run.

I suddenly feel like I have to give him a hug, but since we're sitting on the ground I'm content with just wrapping my left hand around Newt's slim waist and pulling him closer.

He hums happily, burying his face even tighter against my neck.

"I'm sorry," I almost whisper, but Newt just scoffs.

"Don't be."

I don't know how long we stay like that, but then Minho appears from the shadows with a full bottle, and makes a gagging sound as he sees us.

"Eww, get a room," he whines, and Newt chuckles and flips him the finger, but wiggles away from me, anyway. I feel kind of cold without him pressed to my side, and I realize the bonfire's not even burning properly anymore – it's just a pile of burned wood that's still glowing of warmth.

Minho crashes to my right side, nearly knocking us both in the process, and starts telling us something about something that someone said, but I'm not really listening to his words. I feel a little sleepy and I'm just about to suggest going to sleep when Ben appears out of nowhere and stumbles to in front of us.

Just one look to his face and I know this won't end well.

"Well, if it isn't lil' Tom befriending my shanks," he stutters, waving an empty mug on his hand. I slowly stand up, wanting to be ready to defend myself if things get ugly. Minho gives a hesitant laugh, as if he isn't sure how to react to Ben's words. He, of course, has no idea about our little chat earlier today, so he's probably confused.

"Hey, Ben," Newt greets casually, standing up himself, too. Ben squints as he glances at the second-in-command.

"Tell me, Newt," Ben begins, "How does it feel to cuddle with a lying shuck like _him_?" I vaguely realize he must've been watching us even before Minho came back if he's using a word like that.

Newt looks baffled, and it occurs to me that it's probably now that he realizes I wasn't exaggerating when I told him about Ben's dislike towards me.

Well, dislike does seem like an awfully mild word right now. I'd probably use _hate_ instead.

"Ben, what are you talking about?" Newt asks, a frown forming to his face.

"This piece of klunk has come here to destroy us all, but I won't let him" Ben snarls, glaring at me dangerously. Newt pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, looking like he's fed up of Ben's bullshit already. I open my mouth to snap something back, but Newt's faster.

"No, look, Ben, I think you've bloody drank too much. Now, why don't you go and –"

"He's evil! He's _evil,_ and I'm not gonna just shucking sit on my ass and do nothing while he plans to end us! I'll shucking _kill_ him if I have to!" Ben's almost shouting now, his eyes furious, and shoves me hard enough to make me trip on the log behind me and fall on my ass.

Damn, my poor ass.

"Hey, stop it, you bloody idiot –" Newt tries and as Ben takes a step closer to me with a murderous look in his eyes, the blonde steps between us and lifts his hands to Ben's shoulders as a calming effect.

Except that Ben doesn't take it calmingly at all.

He snarls furiously and before Newt has a chance to act, Ben's hits him in the face hard enough to make him stagger, and it's the sickening _thud_ when his fist meets Newt's cheek that makes me see red.

I jump up, shouting "Don't you friggin' _touch_ him" and if it wasn't for Minho who suddenly takes a death grip of me, I'd be on Ben that second. Ben growls and I struggle against the Asian, wanting so _bad_ to punch that ugly expression off his face.

But then there's somebody – Winston, maybe? – behind Ben, manhandling him away from us with someone else's help, and the scene's over just as suddenly as it started. It's when Newt mumbles "take him to the stammer" from my left side when my anger's suddenly replaced by worry. Minho lets go of me and I stumble to Newt's side, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you– you okay?" I ask him, and Newt glares at me, his hands leaning to his knees as he spits some blood out of his mouth. "Sure, just peachy. Man, that shuck knows how to punch," he growls, and finally straightens up, wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Let me see that," I try, but Newt just waves me off like it's no big deal.

"It's nothing – my cheek scratched into my teeth a little, that's all," the blonde mumbles and spits to the ground once more before facing my look. Totally ignoring his words, I raise my hand to his injured cheek and stroke it with my thumb gently.

"I would've managed just fine without you," I mutter, and Newt raises his eyebrows, scoffing "Is that so," but there's a glimpse of something sincerely soft in his eyes. He then leans off the touch and says: "I must go find Alby," before turning around and leaving me alone with Minho.

The bonfire has burned out and doesn't glow warmness anymore, and even though it's getting chilly outside there's something warm inside my chest that doesn't seem to cool down.

* * *

 _ **END OF CHAPTER 3**_

* * *

Ta-da!

Don't we all just feel like we wanna give Newt a hug every now and then. Also, a new OC! Any guesses according to Archie's name? ;)

As always, feedback is love. I'm off to write chapter 4!


	4. Chapter 4

**Now beta'd, yay!**

Yeah, remember what I said about not being able to keep chapters short? This was supposed to be a "short little chapter" to kill some time. Six friggin' thousand words again. Go me.

ANYWAY enough with the rambling. I hope you like this one, I shall warn you tho: there'll be a lot of action.

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 4**_

* * *

"Earth to Tommy."

I snap out of my thoughts to look at Newt, who's smirking at me from the other side of the table. It's an early morning and we and a bunch of other Gladers are eating breakfast, and the Runners have already left to the Maze. I guess it's been about two weeks since I came to the Glade, more or less.

I don't know whether it's a good or a bad thing that I've adjusted to my new life well enough to stop counting the days I've spent here.

"What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"No shit," Newt scoffs, "I've been calling you for five minutes now."

"No, he hasn't," Chuck, who's sitting next to me mumbles to his sandwich, and I roll my eyes. "See, Newt? Chuck here is a _real_ friend, unlike your lousy ass."

"Well, fortunately it's not my ass you hang out with," the blonde winks at me. I snort, and Archie, who's also sitting at our table, groans: "Sure, let's all discuss about Newt's shucking ass while I'm trying to eat."

The second-in-command sticks his tongue out before shifting his gaze back to me.

"As I was saying, before you totally zoned out, Alby wants to see us after breakfast."

I raise my eyebrows in confusion. Funny enough, I don't actually remember the last time I properly chatted with our leader. It's only natural that he has a lot to do since he _is_ the leader, but the reason he's always unavailable is not because he has some leader stuff to deal with – it's because he's _always_ with the girl.

She's still as comatose as she was the day she arrived, and I don't get what Alby gets from sitting by her side day after day. Judging by the way the others look at each other after hearing Alby wants to see us, they don't get it either.

"Wow, as in _interacting_ with you two?" Archie blurts out, and Chuck adds in a snarky way: "Yeah, like actually _seeing_ you and _talking_ to you? I'm impressed."

Newt shrugs, but the frustrated expression on his face reveals that he agrees with the two.

"So anyway, you might wanna hurry up and finish that lousy sandwich if you wanna have time to meet Alby before the Builders wake up. You're with them today, aren't you?"

His question makes me remember that I'm, indeed, with the Builders today. Builders, as in Gally, Stan and Jackson, who alone are enough to creep me out, but also _Ben_. I groan – I've been doing _such_ a good job with avoiding the asshole after the incident at the Bonfire party. After that he was thrown into the Stammer – which apparently is the prison in the Glade – and he was there for two days without food. And taken that he definitely will blame me for the punishment, I really don't feel like seeing him.

"Judging by the reaction, I take it you're right," Frypan, who's arrived to the table to eat a little something before going back to the kitchen, smirks. "And what was this talk about a lousy sandwich I heard? Certainly not one of you losers mocking my, may I emphasize, _amazing_ cooking skills?"

"Sure, and we'd starve without you and Chuck's actually your son and Tommy wants to marry you. Bye, Fry," Newt rolls his eyes and hauls me up from the sleeve of my T-shirt.

"Hey, I'm not finish –"

"Eat while we walk," comes the order, and I manage to grab the half-eaten sandwich and wave goodbye to the others before Newt drags me outside. Sun's already risen, and from the looks of it it's going to be another sunny day. Not that I'm complaining.

"So, is Alby really expecting our visit or did you just want a chance to harass me alone?" I ask before taking a large bite of the sandwich. I know as well as everyone else that Frypan's cooking is pretty friggin' amazing, just like he claimed. It always surprises me how good the food is when I take a bite of _anything_ Frypan's cooked. Even something as ordinary as a sandwich turns into a friggin' _symphony of taste_ in his hands.

Newt chuckles and nudges me with his elbow. "C'mon, that only happened _once_. No, Alby really wants to see us, dunno why." The second-in-command sighs deeply before continuing: "I don't really know what's going on with him. He hasn't left the stupid girl's side for _days_. I even caught Chuck delivering some food for him by Jeff's order."

I stare at his worried expression, and press my lips together, unsure of what to say. I know Alby and Newt were one of the first ones to arrive in the Glade, and along with the shared history they also are close friends.

Or they _were_ close friends anyway, before the girl arrived and Alby suddenly forgot all his other duties. I know Newt's been doing most of the leader stuff lately, since Alby's never there, and that on his shoulders really seems to really burden him, judging by the dark circles under his eyes. He hasn't been able to work with the Track-hoes for days, and I know he _loves_ working there so it must really tire him out.

And sure, I don't get how anyone could ever _love_ planting and gardening and all that other shit, but nonetheless it makes me really sad to see how he has to give up his favorite things to take care of shit that's not even his responsibility.

"Well…maybe he just wants to be there when she wakes up, you know, so that he can immediately start asking questions," I suggest, but Newt just huffs and runs his fingers through his thick, blonde hair in annoyance.

"Still doesn't mean he has to spend every bloody second of the day drooling over her."

I hum in agreement, feeling angry at Alby for just abandoning us. I gulp down the rest of the sandwich as we arrive to the Homestead and head to the stairs. Newt enters the room first and I follow right after him.

Alby's in his ordinary place – sitting next to the unconscious girl, hands crossed, a thoughtful look on his face.

We stand in silence for a couple seconds until Newt says: "Hey, Alby," and Alby raises his gaze to us as if he just noticed we're there. The thoughtful expression stays on his face as he slowly nods at Newt and then shifts his gaze to me, a glimpse of something unrecognizable flashing in his eyes when they meet mine.

Then his expression turns blank and it seriously gives me the chills.

"Thomas, you've gotta be honest with me. With us," the leader starts, and I wrap my arms around myself, feeling defensive.

"I have been honest with you," I blurt, eyes narrowing a little as I stare back to the dark, cold eyes.

"So you really claim that you have no idea who she is," Alby raises his eyebrows, nodding his head towards the girl and still not taking his eyes off me. I just shrug.

"I told you already. I don't know her."

It feels like the staring contest lasts for _ages_ until Alby breaks it by standing up and crossing his arms with a dark expression on his face.

"So why has she been saying your name in her sleep?"

The room grows silent for a moment and I'm feeling dumbfounded.

"She…she has?"

"Yes."

I take a deep breath.

"You know – I don't recall anything from my past but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only Thomas in the entire world," I'm suddenly drifting into sarcasm-mode, but that only makes Alby narrow his eyes more and look even _more_ dangerous.

"And there just _happens_ to be a Thomas here, the very same Thomas who just _happened_ to be the last greenie we got before her?"

Okay, I admit, it _does_ sound worse when you say it out loud.

"I don't know, Alby – what do you want me to say? _I. Don't. Know. Her_ ," I emphasize every word, getting a little annoyed myself, too. Who's he to judge, he hasn't even bothered to so much as _speak_ to me after the girl arrived.

Alby looks like he's just about to snap something back when Newt, who's been strangely quiet for the whole time, opens his mouth.

"Slim it, you bloody idiot – who are _you_ to throw insults at Tommy? You haven't left this bloody room for _days_ , and you're supposed to be the shucking _leader_ here," Newt snaps angrily, his hands curled into fists. Alby looks like he's a little taken aback by the sudden outburst.

"Cases like this are the reason why there _is_ a second-in-command," Alby snaps back, quickly recovering from the surprise. Newt pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, clearly trying to stay calm.

"There's no _case_ here – there's just you drooling over an unconscious girl and pretending there's no other things you need to worry about," Newt snarls, exasperation clear in his voice, but this time Alby just smirks in a cold way.

"What, is my job getting too hard for you already? Are you mad because you haven't had time to play a little green thumb with your beloved _Tommy_?"

And the way he spits out my nickname is as far from nice as it could.

Newt eyes have narrowed dangerously and I open my mouth to say something, but then Alby continues, interrupting me: "Thomas, you can go now. I wanna talk to Newt."

I take a deep breath and glance at Newt, who simply nods without taking his eyes off Alby. I really don't feel like going and leaving the two of them here to fight, especially when Newt looks like he's about to explode, but I decide it's best if I do as Alby says.

I walk to the doorway and just as I'm about to step out of the room, Alby snarls: "And don't think I'll forget about you."

"Send the love letters to my address," I blurt and hurry out before he has a chance to say something else. I _know_ it's not wise to drift into Alby's black list, but it kind of seems a little too late, now. Just like Ben, Alby thinks I'm somehow responsible of – of _something_. Which is kind of friggin' _ridiculous_ , taken that nothing bad has even happened.

Yet, anyway.

I decide to wait for Newt outside the Homestead because I'm kind of worried about what Alby has to say to him. I have a nagging feeling that it's something about me, and the _last_ thing I want is to _Newt_ start agreeing with Alby and thinking that I'm a threat.

It sure doesn't take long until Newt storms out so fast he doesn't even notice me leaning against the wall.

"Newt!" I yell, getting his attention as he glances behind and sees me. He stops and runs a hand through his hair, his posture revealing how upset he is. Then I get to his side and he faces my look and _wow_ – he's not upset.

He's _furious._

"Newt, what did he say?" I carefully ask, touching his arm gently. Newt's gritting his teeth, his eyes slightly narrowed and full of anger.

" _He_ is a bloody idiot who has _no shucking idea_ how deep he is," he snarls and turns his gaze away from me.

"Deep? In what?" I furrow, not sure what the blonde's talking about.

"In– I don't shucking know, he's seriously bloody _messed up,_ making those _ridiculous_ accusations and thinking I'll agree just because –"

"What do you mean? What did he say?"

Newt sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "He wants…he wants to have a Gathering. It's a...well, all the Keepers plus Alby and I gather to discuss serious matters."

I have a feeling I know just well what he wants to discuss about. Or rather – _who_ he wants to discuss about. "Serious matters. You mean me, right?"

"I– yeah. He thinks you're a threat because _she_ keeps saying your name. Alby thinks it's a bad sign. He wants to, I dunno, punish you or throw you into the Stammer 'til the girl wakes up. It's– it's just so stupid, I mean _nothing's_ bloody _happened_. What is he even accusing you of, in the first place?" Newt sighs, and I scratch my neck in confusion.

"I don't get it – if you should be worried about someone being on the wrong side, it's the _girl_. _She's_ the one who changed the matters and all that crap, not me," I try pointing out, staring at the ground.

I suddenly feel a warm hand on my shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. I told Alby he's the shuckiest shuckface there is and to go eat shit. His own, preferably."

And just like that Newt manages to make me smile again. Since I came here, he's been the one who makes things a little better by just friggin' _existing_. I stare down to him – he _is_ a couple inches shorter than me – feeling sudden gratefulness of the blonde standing next to me, and Newt stares back with a smile so warm it could melt icebergs.

"I guess I should go – the Builders have _definitely_ woken up by now," I say and Newt squeezes my shoulder.

"May God embrace you in comfort during this difficult time," he sighs theatrically with his hand over his heart, and I snort, nudging him with my elbow.

"Shut up, I'd rather have a friggin' hot bath with Alby than face Ben," I say, and Newt laughs.

"You serious _?_ Man, I'd rather pop my eyeballs out of their sockets than spend a _second_ with his naked, hairy ass," the blonde shivers to the thought and this time it's me who's laughing.

"Thanks for the images burnt to my vision for the rest of my life."

"Thanks for informing you'll be picturing Alby's _very_ hairy ass for the rest of your life. I think I'll never eat again."

"I think I'll never be able to look Alby in the eye again."

"What, you'd rather look at his hairy ass?"

We're both smirking like idiots and it's stupid and carefree, the way we joke around, but it makes the day _so_ much better.

 _Newt_ makes the day so much better.

"Anyway, try and not to provoke Ben, 'kay? I'd hate to have to rescue you from him again," Newt smirks, and I just roll my eyes, trying to ignore the warm feeling on my chest.

"Yeah, yeah. And I don't _need_ rescuing, you ass."

"At least not a _hairy_ ass."

"Aaand I'm leaving," I inform and start walking away, but fail to hide my grin. Newt pushes his hands into his pockets and smirks at me.

"Have fun." Then he turns around starts walking away, and I turn my head ahead to look at the Builders, who have already started working.

And as disgusting as the thought of spending a whole day with _Ben_ and the other creeps is, nothing seems to cool down the fire burning inside my chest.

* * *

It turns out to be easier than what I thought. Mostly because looks like God's heard my prayers – Ben isn't working when I get there. I ask Stan about him, but he just shrugs and says that he hasn't seen Ben all day.

 _So_ not complaining.

But being a Builder is _boring_ , I mean, geez. Chopping and sanding wood, nailing nails, replacing some rotten planks on the wall of the Homestead with new, fresh planks – boring as _hell_.

And I'm constantly getting splinters to my fingers.

So after couple hours of working and sneezing sawdust I'm sweatier than ever and – call me a loser if you want to – _so_ ready to take a break. I drop my axe and sit to the ground.

I only have time to take one breath before Gally notices me.

"Hey, no Slackers, shank," he yells, eyebrows furrowed.

"C'mon, I'll just take a little break," I roll my eyes, and Gally looks at me like I've lost my mind.

"Oh, a break? Did you hear that, boys? The greenie wants to take a shucking _break_."

Jackson and Stan stop working and turn to look at me. They're both freakishly tall and – as I might've mentioned a couple times already – _creepy as hell_.

And at the moment they are staring at me like I'm a delicious piece of meat they can't _wait_ to chop into pieces. I gulp down.

"Well…it was okay to take breaks with others," I try pointing out, but Gally raises his freakish eyebrows and turns to look at the other two who are grinning widely.

" _It was okay to take breaks with the others,_ " Gally mimics me with a high-pitched voice and earns some more laugher from Stan and Jackson. "Well, guess what, _greenie_? We're not _like_ the others. So no breaks for you."

Gally crouches to snatch my axe and throws it at me, and I _hardly_ have time to roll over before the axe lands in to the spot I was sitting half a second earlier – the blade sinking deep into the ground.

I stare at Gally with my mouth hanging fully open. "Are you _crazy_?" Because seriously, if I hadn't moved the axe would be deep inside my leg right now.

Gally snickers and Stan walks to his right side as Jackson chooses his left. They're staring down at me like the friggin' ugliest, most ridiculous looking three men's army ever.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It just slipped," Gally crosses his arms and fakes an over-sympathetic expression to his face.

"Yeah, I wouldn't just sit on the ground like a shucking Slacker if I were you – might get _seriously_ hurt," Jackson smirks, his eyes narrowed.

Oh please.

"Are you seriously threatening me because I'm _sitting_ on the _ground_?"

"Oh, are we?" Stan asks, tilting his head to right questioningly, and Gally adds: "I didn't notice at all."

I press my lips tightly together, doing everything I can to stop myself from hitting one of those losers. I had _no_ idea they'd waste time to do something as ridiculous as this. Then I stand up and start walking, not minding the direction as long as I'm getting away from _them_.

"What did I just _say_? No breaks," Gally growls angrily from behind me, and I turn around, walking backwards, and decide to do the only thing that comes in mind that doesn't involve speaking.

I flip the finger to them and keep walking – apparently towards the Deadheads.

"You're gonna regret that, shank!" Stan yells, but I couldn't care less.

Damn, we're trapped in the middle of a Maze with no way out and some people _still_ have time to be bullies. How friggin' lame is that?

Before I know it, I've entered the Deadheads, the small – and only – forest in here. Confused, I realize I haven't actually come here before – either I haven't had the time or I've just had something else to do.

The forest, as I notice while glancing up the trees, is kind of spooky in a way. Dimly lit with the trees being tall and leafy enough to prevent the sunlight from properly reaching the ground.

I shiver, but too curious for my own good, keep walking forward. I want to see more.

Mostly the forest is just trees and mold and grass. But after a couple minutes of walking, I notice something else on the ground. Something that's _definitely_ not a creation of the nature. It's a wooden cross sticking out from the ground, and as I get closer I realize it has a name scraped on it.

"George," I read out loud and let my hand wander on the letters scratched deep to the wood. There's no doubt – it's definitely a tombstone. But why? And how? How has he – _George_ – died?

And then I glance behind the tombstone and realize George's not the only one. There's more crosses behind his. I gape at them, feeling utterly dumbfounded – how have they all died? – and I'm about to take a step closer to the one that says 'Stephen' when a branch snap somewhere behind me.

I turn around in hurry –

And then I'm facing Ben.

 _Just_ when I thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"Uhm…Ben," I greet, not-so-smoothly. I have no idea what the guy's doing here in the middle of the day. Well, I'm here too, clearly, but at least I've done some work already – Ben, on the other hand, hasn't been so much as seen today.

And as that thought hits my brain I suddenly feel very cold. Has Ben been here the whole morning? Why?

"You," he growls, spit dripping from his mouth as he gapes at me with a furious expression on his face. "You did this."

"What?" My mouth hangs open as he takes a step closer to me. I gulp, silently cursing the fact we're not allowed to carry weapons or knives.

Ben shivers slightly as he continues to stare at me. Dumbfounded, I notice that the veins on his throat look weird – as if they had something much, much darker liquid than blood pouring inside of them. Ben takes another step, a murderous shimmer in his eyes.

"I've seen it. _You_. In my dreams," Ben snarls, hands curling into fists.

"Ben, I don't know what you're –"

"It's you! _I know it's you!_ You did this to us!" And then he jumps forward, attacking me with full force and I'm too frozen to my feet to dodge as his full body hits me and knocks me down. He's roaring on top of me, hands furiously searching for places to hit or scratch, and I'm doing everything I can to try stop him.

But man, he's _strong._

I turn my head as his spit – eww – dribbles to my face, and notice a stick lying just within my reach. I grab it, avoiding Ben's fierce punches, and gathering all my powers I hit him, aiming to his head. Ben ' _umph'_ s and although he's only distracted for two seconds, tops, it's enough for me. I push him off me and roll over, getting to my feet faster than I've ever gotten, and start running, not minding the direction, just getting the hell away from _him_.

Ben growls furiously and I don't dare to look behind, but by the sound of it, he's already after me.

I run, heart thumping in chest so hard I'm afraid it's going to pop out, yelling: "Help!"

I don't really care who hears, I just run and scream for help like a four-year-old, hoping that _anyone_ would hear it.

Then I reach the Glade and for a second I think ' _I'm safe'_ when something giant tackles me from behind and drags me to the ground with a thump.

Ben's screaming like he's the one being eaten alive and scratches my face and my arms and I struggle against him but he's too _strong_ , then his hands are around my throat and I _can't breathe I can't breathe_ and I'm hitting his arms that are curled around me, stars flashing in my vision –

"BEN!" I vaguely hear someone yell and _I know that voice_ and then a loud _thump_ and the weight rolls off me and I'm free, gasping for air. I'm coughing madly and I hear more voices around me, more people, but someone's hands are on me and I'm being hauled to sitting position.

"Tommy, breathe, you bloody idiot!" It's Newt, his hands cupping my face, his eyes full of worry. He's kneeling in front of me, helping me to sit still.

It takes a while to feel like my lungs are properly functioning again.

"Are you okay? What happened?" His voice is questioning and I feel like I want to wipe away the worried expression on his face, no matter what it takes. Newt shouldn't look like that.

"Ben, he– he just attacked me, out of nowhere, I didn't do _anything_ , I swear –" I stammer, turning my head a little to see Ben, who's struggling like an animal against Gally and Winston, who are trying to keep him still.

"C'mon, Tommy, it's alright," Newt's voice is reassuring, and I stare into his eyes, take a deep breath and nod.

"Ye– yeah. Ben just attacked me and kept shouting shit like 'it was you' and…I dunno, I tried to run away but…damn, the guy's _fast_ ," I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes for a second. Newt hums and suddenly I feel someone touching my legs, and I yelp.

"Relax, you idiot, I'm just checking your legs for wounds. You fell pretty nicely there," he snaps, investigating my legs by feeling them through my pants. I stare at him as he moves on to my arms and checks them intensely. Then he touches a sore part and I hiss: "Ouch," and Newt sends me an apologizing smile.

"He got your arm pretty good. You need to get it checked by Clint or Jeff." I nod, and then the blonde stands up and offers me a hand that has become surprisingly familiar to me during this time.

"You gotta stop ending up in this position," Newt grins, and I can't help a small smile spreading to my face, too, as I grab his hand and let him help me up.

Winston and Gally are shouting at Ben and dragging him towards the Stammer, and I have to look away from him because the animal-like grin on his face is too horrible.

"Tommy, come on," Newt nudges me with his elbow and we start walking towards the Homestead. My knees hurt a little from taking the impact when I fell and my throat feels sore as hell and is that a friggin' _bite mark_ on my hand, but otherwise I feel pretty okay and totally capable of walking on my own.

I don't mention that to Newt, though, who keeps his hand on my back the whole time, supporting me as we walk. I have to admit I kind of like the physical contact.

But as always, the nice moments don't last. Alby storms out of the Homestead when we are just a couple inches away from it, his face red with anger.

"What the _shuck_ is happening?" He yells, and I almost flinch to his furious voice. Newt takes a small step forward that would probably look just something casual to everyone else, but for some reason I get the feeling that he's shielding me from Alby.

Which makes me feel strange because Newt shouldn't be trying to shield me from anyone – firstly, I'm _taller_ than him, and secondly I don't need anyone to shield me.

But it spreads something warm to my body again and leaves me fighting with a blush.

"Alby, calm down, dammit," Newt snaps dangerously, lifting his hand to rest against the darker boy's chest as a calming effect.

Alby eyes us suspiciously. "Tell me what's going on _right now._ "

And the way he stares at me lets us know who he thinks is responsible for all the hustle.

Newt opens his mouth to explain, but this time I'm faster. "Ben and I were in the woods and he attacked me." Short and simple.

"Why would he attack you?" Alby asks, clearly waiting for me to reveal something that would explain the other boy's acting.

I shrug. "I have no idea, I didn't do anything."

"He's in the Stammer, now," Newt adds, and Alby shifts his gaze to the shorter boy. He's quiet for a couple seconds, then opens his mouth to say something but then a yell carries through the Glade and makes us all immediately look to the way it's coming from.

"Newt! Alby!" It's Minho, running like crazy towards us. I glance at Newt and he has an utterly confused look on his face. "Shouldn't he be –" I start, and Newt just nods. "In the Maze. Yeah, he should."

Then he takes a couple steps forward and Minho reaches us, panting heavily. He leans into his knees and lifts his finger to sign us to _wait_.

"It's– there– you've gotta come and see," the Asian stammers, his expression wild, a little mad, even. Alby and Newt glance at each other, and the latter one asks: "What?"

Minho shakes his head like he couldn't really believe what he's about to say himself.

"I found one. I found a dead Griever."

The silence lasts for a second.

"You _what?_ "

"A _dead_ one?"

Alby and Newt yell their questions at the same time, but Minho has no problems understanding. He nods, grinning widely.

"Yup. A dead shucker. Not even that far away – that's why I decided to come back and get you," he says, looking at Alby.

But Alby's expression is blank, and he's standing with his arms crossed.

"To get me? You mean I'd have to come to the _Maze_?" He asks coldly, making Minho furrow his eyebrows in confusion. "Well, you're the leader and all –"

"I can't. I don't have time for that," the dark-skinned boy interrupts him. Minho gulps and scratches his neck.

"Alby, don't be a bloody idiot! We've never seen one and now we have a chance to study a _dead one_ ," Newt snarls, looking like he can't believe what Alby's saying.

Not that I can, either.

"I don't have _time_ to run about in the Maze," Alby snaps back and takes a step back. He licks his lips in thoughts and then adds: "You go, then."

We all stare at Alby like he's lost his mind.

"Me?" Newt asks dumbfounded, while Minho snaps: "Don't be an idiot, Alby."

Alby just shrugs and stares at us with a cold expression.

"If it's so important to you, _you_ go there. Not like you have anything better to do, anyway."

And if he didn't rush away from the scene so quickly after that, I'd hit him, I _swear_ I would. Why in _hell_ does he think he has any rights to speak to _Newt_ like that?

But Newt doesn't look angry as he ruffles his thick hair, he looks like he's deep in thought.

Which – to be honest – scares me even more.

Because that means he's seriously considering Alby's words.

"Newt, c'mon," I groan, and he looks at me.

"I could do it."

"Newt, no –"

"I _could_ bloody _do_ it," he keeps insisting, and I sigh because yeah, sure, maybe he could but that doesn't mean he _should._

"Minho, say something," I beg, but Minho just shakes his head.

"I dunno– I really need someone in there with me and Newt _is_ the second-in-command," he points out. "And he used to be a Runner so it wouldn't be breaking the rules. Besides, it's not that far away. We wouldn't have to run the whole time."

"I can run," Newt snaps, making Minho just shrug. He thinks about it for a little while until agreeing: "Okay. Let's go, then."

I can't believe what's happening. Newt's going to the Maze? Kind, sweet Newt who has a limp and friggin' _never_ runs if it's not necessary?

"What, no, Newt – you _can't –"_ I start, but Newt interrupts me.

"Slim it, Tommy. You heard what Min said – he needs someone. And since Alby's to busy being a total _ass_ …" He just shrugs.

I'm pretty sure the tone in my voice is very close to begging, but I don't really care.

"Newt, please, you can't."

He just shakes his head and squeezes my shoulder gently. "C'mon, Tommy. It won't take long, we'll be back before you know it. Keep the bed warm for me," he jokes with a glimpse of playfulness in the corner of his eye, but I'm not really in the mood for joking right now.

"Oh, I'm so flattered how you're reluctant as shuck to let this shank go in the Maze, but have no problems with _me_ going," Minho jokes in a fake-hurt voice, but I barely register his words. I have an annoying feeling in my chest that I should _stop_ him, to make him stay, but then Minho pats him on the back as a sign that they should go, and then they start walking away.

Newt turns to look at me, yelling: "And be sure to show your ugly arm to Clint!" and then they start running, Newt's limp only barely visible since he seems to be determined to show me that he can do it.

I'm left with no other option than to go in the Homestead to find Clint.

I only wish I was as sure about this as Newt is.

* * *

Dammit.

Dammit, dammit, _dammit._

I was friggin' right. I'm friggin' _always_ right. I never should've let him leave.

They haven't returned yet and it's almost _time_ and I'm freaking out. We are all gathered around the doorway, even Leo's come back from his trip, and the tension is thick in the air. Chuck's trying to calm me down but I'm so freaked out my brains can't even register his words.

 _Why_ did I let him leave? I'm so _stupid_.

I'm biting into my lip so hard I'm pretty sure it'll bruise but I don't care. I just want them to come back. I _need_ them to come back.

"I'm sure they'll –" Chuck starts, but then the familiar screeching sound begins and my heart drops to my knees and I feel like I'm falling into a dark abyss.

The doors are closing.

I'm breathing hard, narrowing my eyes so that I can see deeper into the Maze, to see even a slightest hint that they're coming, that they're on their way…

15 feet. 15 horrible, short feet separating the doors from each other. My hands are curling into fists and it gets harder to breathe every passing second.

10 feet. The more I wish for the walls to slow down, the faster they seem to move. Please, let them come, they can still make it, they _can…_

5 feet. God, why won't these damn friggin' walls stop moving, they're not _here_ yet, the doors can't friggin' close if Newt and Minho are on the other side –

3 feet. My palms are sweating, my heart's thumping in my chest, and there's still no sign of them.

30 inches. I'm so close to losing it, this can't be true. It can't be happening. Like everyone keeps telling me, no one's ever survived a night in the Maze and if Newt and Minho face that destiny –

A thought comes to my mind. I couldn't do it.

Expect that I could. I can't let them die, I have to do something.

20 inches, and nothing has ever looked as horrible as the doorway I'm staring into, but I can't leave them.

 _I can't leave him._

20 inches left and I step forward before anyone has time to realize what I'm doing, and squeeze through the gap, and for a moment I'm sure I won't make it and I'll squeeze to death but then –

A cold breeze of air greets me and I'm outside.

I'm in the Maze.

* * *

 _ **END OF CHAPTER 4**_

* * *

Ta-da!

Lalalalaalallala how did you like it? I know a shit load of stuff happened in this one and I apologize for that, but I felt like I just had to fit the Ben-attack and the Newt-goes-in-to-the-Maze part in this and, well, whoops.

And I want you to know that the idea to this whole fic came when I read and watched the Maze Runner and thought "why in hell didn't Newt go into the Maze, too?" So there you go, Newt in the Maze! I know you want it ;)

So, **I finally got this beta'd** and oh boy - before betaing you really could notice that I wrote this chapter in the middle of the night and in a hurry. I'm so sorry for the confusing mistakes (first saying Ben was a Builder and suddenly calling him a Runner, for example...he is a Builder in this fic, tho!)

And I'm so, so, so, so sorry I haven't updated in friggin' _ageeees_. I haven't and I'm not planning to abandon this fic. It's just that I have school and I even got a job so most of my days I leave at 8:00 AM and return home at 9:00 PM and go straight to bed. Also in Finland we have this huuge exams on the last year of high school and I've really been trying to read so that I pass the exams and unfortunately, that takes up my time as well.

But I write a little every now and then and the next chapter is coming, I can promise you. Not tomorrow, probably not the day after tomorrow and maybe not even in a week - but it _is coming_!

So thanks for your patience, love you all!


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING! SOS! UNBETA'D! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!**

Yes, you're seeing right and no, you haven't gone crazy - it's really me! As in - I **_FINALLY_** updated!

I'm so sorry for the delay, and I guess you all already thought you'd seen the last of me - well, you were wrong. I'm really, really into this fic and nothing's gonna stop me from writing it. Not even death. (okay, death, possibly)

Like I explained at the end of the last chapter, I have school and work and blah blah all kinds of stressful shit but I managed to finally finish this chapter. I'm excited and terrified for this chapter at the same time because I really enjoyed writing this but you never know what the readers think.

And like mentioned, this chapter hasn't been beta'd yet - so sorry about that, you should be expecting some kind of weird typos and grammar mistakes like last time. So, beware! And that being said: enjoy!

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 5**_

* * *

The minute the doors close I'm swallowed into total silence. For a while I just stand there, too amazed by my own actions to think properly.

I'm…In the Maze. Me. Tommy. The greenie.

Shit, I'm going to be in _so_ much trouble. Taken that I make it alive.

I take a deep breath and let myself look around a little, investigate the surroundings where I'm about to spend the next hours.

It's _dark_ , a lot darker than it would be in the Glade right now, because the light doesn't fully reach the ground through the ridiculously high walls. They look even creepier when you're in the Maze itself, being covered in vines, leaves and ivy. The ground looks like rock, and the plants have spread from the walls to cover some of the ground, too. Cold breezes of wind greet me and I get the chills.

Did I really just do that? Did I really just step into the Maze and, well, according to what I've been told since the day one, doom myself to die?

But I'm not going to spend my time grieving for my stupid actions or the creepiness of the Maze – I have more important things to do. Newt and Minho are not only trapped in here – they are either lost or in trouble.

 _They might be dead_.

But I'm not letting myself think of that for longer than a second because that's _not an option._ They aren't dead, and they won't be. I just have to find them on time.

Taking a last, long breath, I start running.

* * *

Since I've never been in the Maze before and it would be impossible to try to choose the direction, I decide not to. I just run, letting my instincts tell which turn to take. Running feels _good_ and I know, more than ever, that this is what I'm destined to do in the Glade. Being a Runner.

Although taken how I just broke, like, only the _most important rule_ in the Glade, I'm lucky if they let me come back, let alone to become a Runner.

I run for _ages_ and it would be underestimating to say that I'm lost. I'm so utterly, thoroughly lost it makes the word 'lost' lose its meaning. I might be running a circle and wouldn't know about it.

The thought makes me slow down a little when the next turn comes, and I actually stop for a second to ponder which way to take. What did I pick last time? Right? No, left. Or was it right?

And then a noise freezes my brain, sending all my thoughts flying away.

 _Whirrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

 _Whirrrrrrr_

I'm too paralyzed to let a single breath. It's the most horrible noise I've ever heard – or remember hearing, anyway. I search my empty head for answers, trying to find _anything_ that could be the source of that kind of a noise, but I have no idea what kind of creature it could be.

Although I do know what the creature must be. A Griever.

 _Shit_.

The noise's coming from my right side and I turn my head a little, just barely enough to see to the end of the hallway. At first, I don't see anything, and I almost breathe in relief but then– flickering lights, so dim my eyes only barely notice them, but there they are. And the longer I stare, the clearer the lights become. Which means the Griever's getting closer.

Half a second later I'm running for my life to the left, the direction which seems to be Griever-free at the moment. I reach the end of the hallway and turn left again, then right, left, right, right…Just trying to get the hell away from that creature. I didn't even stay long enough to actually _see_ it but I'm kind of glad I didn't. If the noise's enough to scare the crap out of me…

I really wish I'll never see a Griever.

After I've been running for another good half an hour, I decide it's safe to assume the Griever's somewhere far behind me. I turn right again, but this time stop for a second and lean to a wall to catch my breath. I feel exhausted, sweaty and tired and I know I can't stay still for long but the idea of sitting down is simply too tempting, so I let my body slide to a sitting position.

I have no idea how long I've been in the Maze but I already feel half dead. The fear of not finding Newt and Minho in time, the fear of getting lost – too late for that, though – the fear of properly encountering a Griever…A sudden wave of desperation rushes through me. Who knows how many Grievers there even are and – how fast are they in the first place? _Are_ they fast? Damn it, I should have asked Newt more about them.

I shiver to the thought of Grievers being as fast as I am and since I really don't know shit about them, I decide it's best to assume the worst to stay alive. So I really shouldn't stay in one place for too long.

I swipe the sweat from my forehead and take a deep breath, ready to start running again when I spot a movement out of the corner of my eye. Something moving _very_ slowly on the end of the hallway I'm currently sitting in. For a second I feel my throat tighten and the terror rises from my feet to my fingers as I fear to be forced to meet a Griever, but the feeling passes faster than a lightning strikes as I turn my head towards the moving figure and narrow my eyes to get a better view of it.

And it's not a Griever.

"N– Newt?"

The movement stops and the only sound in the hallway is the echo of my voice. Then –

" _Tommy_?"

And then _I'm_ the one moving, getting back to my feet faster than I knew was possible and rushing forward. I was so afraid I would never see him again that I had taken the thought and forced it into the back of my brain, making myself so hard _not_ to think about the possibility. And now, seeing him stand there, breathing, alive…

There's not a force in this world that could make me slow down.

I bump into Newt, crushing his slim body against me for a half second before quickly loosening my grip and pulling myself out to take a better look at him. He sways on his feet while grasping my elbows, and I'm the one keeping us still and standing, but I can't find it in myself to feel sorry for almost knocking my friend down because I was _so scared_.

"You're alive," I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my heart thumping inside my ribcage as if trying to break free. I'm gripping his shoulders probably too hard but apart from looking utterly taken aback, he looks fine. The blond hair is messy and the fabric under my palms feels kind of damp, like he's been running and sweating, and his breathing is hard. I look behind him and realize the absence of Minho, but just as I'm about to ask about him, Newt opens his mouth.

"I'm– of course I am, but what're you –" His brown eyes are full of confusion until the realization hits him and I feel like I'm shrinking under his narrowed gaze.

" _What_ are you doing here?" The question is sharp and I gulp, not knowing what to say. Newt's expression is dangerous and he takes a step back, and my arms fall back to my sides.

"The doors have been closed for bloody _hours_ , Tommy – what the _shuck_ are you _doing here_?"

"I just –"

"Just bloody _what_? Thought it would be great to play a little hero, jump into the Maze and save the bloody _day_?"

And I should have guessed that Newt would be angry, even furious, because he wouldn't be _Newt_ if he wasn't but _still_ …

"I just wanted to help, the doors were closing and you were still here –"

"And exactly _what_ kind of bloody right does it give you, you shouldn't be here, you shucking idiot! Haven't you listened to bloody _word_ I've said?"

"I have, why else do you think I'm here? Newt, I couldn't just friggin' _leave_ you here!" And maybe my voice has the slightest bit of annoyance in it, so what. A part of me knew he wouldn't take it well, but really, it kind of hurts to be treated like I rushed into the Maze just to 'play a little hero'.

"Why? That's what everyone else shucking did! I can't believe you, you're such a clueless idiot –"

"Would you just friggin' –"

But our slowly raising voices are cut by a horrible, screeching noise that I already know _way_ too well, let alone the fact I've only heard it once before.

 _Whirrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

 _Whirrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

Newt's eyes are widened and filled with horror as he stares at me.

"Shit, we gotta run," he gasps, but I can't help turning my head to the direction of the sound. It's the direction Newt came from, and I can already see the weird, flickering lights getting closer. The thing's probably just one turn away from us.

"Tommy, _c'mon_ ," Newt grabs my hand, dragging me to the opposite direction, and I'm forced to turn my gaze away from the noise and lights. Adrenaline is already rushing through my blood and I have an urge to speed up, to _run_ , but a quick look at Newt prevents me from even suggesting it.

He's so obviously in pain I wonder how he's still jogging, and I don't have to ask to know the source – his bum leg.

"Newt –"

"Now you listen to me, Tommy," Newt pants, obviously not wanting to draw any more attention, "the only way for us to make it is to separate."

But the answer is on my lips before he even gets the sentence out: "No way."

" _Yes_ way, it's the o _nly way_ –"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"It's not for you to decide –"

"Look," I snap, nudging his arm to make him stop jogging for a second, "I already made the mistake of letting you go in the Maze. I'm _not_ letting you wander off without me again."

He opens his mouth, trying to come up with an objection, but no sound comes out. Our eyes lock and maybe Newt is just too tired to come up with anything or maybe it's the firm look in my gaze, but he sighs and shakes his head.

"We don't have time for this," but he doesn't sound angry anymore, just tired. I nod and grab his hand again, and we start jogging, adrenaline still pumping in my veins. We get closer to the end of the hallway and I'm wondering which turn to take when suddenly the noise splits the air louder than ever. Startled, I take a quick glance behind and –

"Shit, Newt, run!"

Because it's in the hallway and it must have seen us already and I have no other options than to run and drag Newt behind me. I hate doing it and even though Newt doesn't make a sound, he can't fool me – he's hurting like hell. He won't be able to run for long.

But I decide not to think about that right now – we'll cross the bridge when we come to it – and just concentrate on losing the thing. We turn right, then left, then take a turn to right in the middle of a hallway and keep running, but I can hear the thing crawling after us. We have managed to grow the distance a little, and I almost feel a glimmer of hope when suddenly Newt stumbles and loses his step with a yelp.

"Ah, bloody _hell_ –" he curses, and his face is dangerously pale as I help him up. He tries to take a step but hisses from pain when his injured leg touches the ground. He breathes out and snaps his head up to meet my gaze and my heart breaks a little to the sight of fear in his eyes.

"Tommy, I –"

But I'm already by his side. "Here, you can lean on me."

"No, Tommy, I can't run anymore," he whimpers, and the Griever's terrifying noises are closing in way too fast. I bite my lip hard enough for it to bruise and try to think or a solution when Newt nudges my hand.

"We can't lose it if we're together."

" _No_."

"Then _what_ are we gonna do? Tommy, _I can't run –_ you have to leave me!" But I don't even bother to answer – I'd rather die than leave him alone to face the Griever.

 _Whirrrrrrr_

 _Click-click-click_

But I do know we don't have time to sit around planning our survival. "Hop on," I command, crouching down a little, and Newt raises his eyebrows like I've lost my mind.

"Tomm –"

"Now!" And it surprises me that he actually obeys, hopping on my back and curling his slim arms around my shoulders. You know how usually people aren't as light as they look like? Well, Newt's even lighter than he seems. I don't understand how someone as muscular as he still manages to weight so little.

I start running, and I'm actually able to run even faster now that Newt's on my back instead of running next to me. It should feel weird to run while giving your friend a piggyback ride, especially a _male_ friend, but the only thing I'm feeling is the warmth of Newt's body and the need to protect him. I kind of want to ask about Minho, but at the same time I'm scared to hear about his fate, so I decide to let it go for now.

I'm feverishly trying to make a plan when Newt suddenly startles me by speaking as we get to another turn.

"Turn right," and I obey immediately, taking the right turn. Newt continues: "Now left, then right again," and I keep taking the turns he orders.

"What's your plan?" I pant while running, and Newt mumbles: "I might know a way." And that's enough for me.

After running and obeying Newt's commands for maybe ten minutes I'm starting to feel the exhaustion, and I'm worried that I'm going to have to slow down, when we suddenly come to a hallway that just…ends. There's no other head, just a darkness that seems to continue to infinity.

"Newt, what's– what's this?" I breathe as we reach the end of it. I stop and stare into the darkness, not believing my eyes – how can this be possible? How can it just…end like this? There's no ground, no nothing – only darkness and stars. Like we are standing on the edge of the world.

Newt drops from my back to his better leg but keeps his hand on my back, as if taking support.

"This…is our only chance." I stare at him with confusion, and he just shrugs. "This is something Minho and I found a while ago. I mean– when I was still a Runner. We have no idea what it is or why it's here, but…it was the only idea I could come up with."

I nod, suddenly realizing Newt's plan, no matter how hard it is for me to just turn my back to the – wonderful? Terrifying? – sight. The Griever is closing in, it's only a matter of seconds now, and Newt's eyes are filled with fear and worry as he stares at the other head of the hallway.

I decide to act before I get a chance to regret anything, and take his hand as the Griever's horrific sounds fill the air. Newt opens his mouth, staring at our conjoined hands, but no sound comes out. Sure, we've had a lot of contact during this evening but this –

This feels different. More intimate.

And when the hallway lightens up by the weird, flickering lights and the Griever rolls closer, the fear disappears from Newt's gaze and is replaced by determination.

"On three," he mutters, and I nod, finally taking a proper look at the Griever.

There's no words to describe its form – it's so utterly terrifying that I don't even know what part of it to look first. It's half flesh, half metal, its body covered in some kind of ooze that makes me think of a giant snail. It has legs, many, spider-like legs, and there's at least dozen limbs pointing though its body. Each limb is different – there's one with a hammer, one with a knife, the list goes on.

So no – there's no possible way of describing the Griever with one word.

"One," Newt whispers, and I squeeze his hand hard. The Griever roars – or whatever the hell you call the sounds it's making – and I gulp. It doesn't seem to have any sort of eyes so I have no idea how it can sense us.

But there's no question of it – it definitely knows we're there.

"Two," Newt's silent voice interrupts my train of thoughts, and I take a deep breath. Then the Griever roars for the last time before suddenly surging forward so fast it makes my heart jump to my throat, and I glance at Newt, wanting to _move_ , but Newt simply shakes his head as if saying 'not yet'. I force myself to stay still, and the Griever's getting closer and closer and I'm sure we're as good as dead.

Then, as the Griever's no more than five feet away from us and I'm so horrified I might die from fear, Newt yells: " _Three!_ " And I release his hand as I jump right and he dives left, and one of the limbs actually scrapes my shoulder as I roll past the horrible creature. It roars and I have to cover my ears as I turn my head just to see the Griever rush over the edge and into the abyss. I stumble to get on my feet and run to the edge to see its falling, but there's nothing.

Just darkness.

Newt appears to my right side, panting like crazy.

"Where did it go?" He asks, voice filled with confusion, but I'm too excited to question anything right now.

"Newt, we– we did it," I breathe out, and Newt pats my shoulder with a wide grin on his face.

"We bloody did."

* * *

"So, what happened?" I finally ask the question that has been burning on the back of my mind for a while now. We're leaning against the ivy wall, staring into the darkness that's actually not so dark anymore – sunrise is probably not too far. We agreed that this would be our best shot at staying alive – staying here, waiting for the other Grievers. We're sitting next to each other, our shoulders touching, and Newt turns his head from the edge of the Maze to me.

He bites his lip, obviously knowing what I'm talking about. "We, uh– the thing was right there, where Minho had found it. Just lying there, and we were about to go examine it, when more Grievers appeared. They came out of nowhere and we barely had time to hide. The other Grievers didn't notice us, they just– like, circled around the dead one and started to– man, I don't even _know_ what. They just, like, started kind of…I dunno, bloody _humming_ around the dead one, and I swear they stayed circled around it for at least half an hour."

I can feel my brows furrowing as I'm trying to come up with any sane reason for the Grievers to act the way Newt describes. He stares at his hands and continues: "Then, just as fast as they appeared, they were suddenly just…gone. We couldn't stare the whole time, since we were hiding behind the ivies and all, but it was bloody weird. And the dead one was still just lying there. We waited for a long time before venturing out of our hiding spot, and since the thing was still just lying on the ground, we really thought it was dead."

I'm feeling taken aback. "What, so it wasn't dead, then?"

"No," Newt smirks in a sad way, "It bloody wasn't. I was _this_ close to poking it with my finger when Minho suddenly yelled and pushed me out of the way. When I looked up, I saw one of the Griever's…limbs squeezing the air where I has been standing half a second ago. And the thing was waking up. We started running and we tried to stay together at first, but it was bloody crazy, there were suddenly more Grievers and we had no other choice than to separate."

I think Newt's finished and I'm about to open my mouth and say something reassuring about how Minho knows the Maze like his own pockets, but Newt's not done yet. "So I ran, and for a while I thought – like, sure, I would risk you all by running straight to the Glade with a Griever behind me, but I thought we could handle it together. But then I realized I was lost – at some point, the Maze had started changing."

"Changing –"

"Yeah, the Maze changes every night, and that _only_ happen at nights. I have no buggin' idea what triggered the Maze into acting like that, it's _crazy_ – but it started changing hours before it was supposed to. And that's not all," Newt bitterly laughs, "it didn't follow any of the earlier patterns. See, every night the Maze changes, and we've noticed that it follows a certain pattern. Every thirty days the changing system starts from the beginning, and the same changes occur. But not only was it way too early – it _didn't follow_ a bloody pattern _at all_."

I'm having kind of a hard time trying to assimilate the fact that the Maze friggin' _changes_ every night, and no one's bothered to mention that to me earlier, thank you very much. I sense that Newt's story isn't over, yet, but I don't rush him.

Newt takes a deep breath. "Anyway, since the Maze was changing, I had no idea how to get back. So I just ran and after growing the distance enough I climbed as high as I could and waited for the bugger to pass me."

My mouth hangs open. "You– and it worked? It didn't notice?"

"Yeah, believe it or not– those shanks are fast but they're everything but smart."

"Newt, that's…that's amazing," I breathe out, and Newt glances at me, looking confused. His cheeks have the slightest amount of pink on them but maybe it's just from the events of the evening rather than from my words.

"Um, anyway – I have no idea what happened to Minho. At least one of the buggers went after him but– I don't know…"

"Hey, Minho's a clever guy and he knows the Maze like his pockets," I try to reassure him, but he just huffs.

"So did I, but then the Maze decided to go all crazy and I was more lost than ever."

"Yeah, but…if _you_ managed to survive, Minho must've made it too," and it's really kind of risky to try joking about it this soon, but it _works_ – Newt smirks and ruffles his hair, looking a little less worried already.

"Well, you got that right, shank," he snorts, and I don't know which one of us is more surprised when he suddenly leans his head against my neck. I can feel his warm breath on my skin, making me shiver, and I don't give a damn if it's the shoulder that got scraped by the Griever because my heart's thumping against my ribcage as if trying to break free again.

I gulp. "Newt –"

"Do you think we knew each other?" He interrupts me with a question, and I feel confused for a second before realizing what he's aiming for.

"You mean…before?" I answer with a question, and Newt slightly nods, the thick, blond hair tickling me a little.

"Do you think we were friends?"

Even though it takes me a while to answer him, doesn't mean the answer's not on my mind the second Newt asks.

"Yeah. I think we were friends."

* * *

We sit there for the rest of the night, not saying a word. At some point Newt's breathing turns so even that I guess he's sleeping, and I don't dare to wake him up. We still have a long way to go to get back to the Glade.

I turn my head in the slightest to watch the sky change its color from dark to orange, yellow and finally light blue. My own eyes are starting to shut and I have to resist the urge to just fall asleep here, because no matter how peaceful it might seem right now, we don't know if the Grievers are really gone. I hate myself a little for waking Newt up – he really needs the sleep – but he'll be able to sleep when we reach the Glade, anyway.

"Newt, hey," I mumble, and he immediately stirs awake and straightens his sitting position – much to my disappointment. "I think we should try going back now."

"Yeah," he yawns, and I yawn, too, as I stand up and start stretching my stiffened muscles. Wow, they definitely remember the running from the night.

Newt gets up, too, but a lot slower than I did. I realize his leg must still be bugging him.

"Do you need help?" I ask, offering my hand to him, and Newt takes a careful step, as if to test whether or not his leg's going to bear walking. The hiss that escapes from his lips tells me enough, and I hurriedly step forward to help.

"No, I– I think I can walk," Newt says, but takes a little support from my hand before taking another step. This time he only cringes, so I guess with a little help, he can make it.

"Here, lean on me," I say, offering my shoulder, and Newt curls his slim hand around my uninjured shoulder, letting me support him. The first steps are hard but one by one the walking gets easier and with Newt guiding me, I feel more hopeful than ever because no matter what happens now – we survived the night.

* * *

During our walk, Newt explains me that apparently only one section of the Maze was going mad during yesterday. That's why the section we're currently in didn't change at all and Newt's actually able to find the right way to the Glade. I just nod, too tired to form actual words, and we keep walking.

Then, friggin' _finally_ when we turn left for the last hallway, we're greeted with a sight that I never imagined would make me this happy. The Glade.

We hurry the last steps and when we finally get to the Glade, Newt loosens his grip and falls on his ass, too tired to stay standing. I lean to my knees and breathe hard, too amazed by the fact that we're really _here_ , alive and well.

"Thomas!" I hear a voice I've grown to know well – Chuck. "Thomas, Newt – you're alive!" And then the shorter boy's hugging me and it should be weird but it isn't.

"Hey, Chuck," I laugh, and Chuck looks like somebody just told him he's going home today.

"I was so sure you were…and we wanted to go after you, but she didn't let us and –"

And it's funny how much just one word can change – I feel my blood running cold and I glance at Newt, who meets my gaze, looking just as confused as I'm feeling.

"She?" I interrupt Chuck's blabber, and he gulps loudly.

"Um, yeah, I totally forgot you didn't know – the girl's awake," Chuck mutters, the smile totally disappeared, and I frown.

"And?" I encourage him, because there's obviously more to it than he's telling us.

"And, um, about that– Thomas, you should be careful with her, I think she's trying to –"

"Tom!"

Chuck flinches as a high, feminine voice interrupts his talking. He immediately lowers his gaze to the ground as if he wasn't really here, and goes to Newt, as if checking his state. I raise my gaze to see the figure storming towards us, the long, raven-black hair and startlingly beautiful face.

"Tom, I can't believe this!" She yelps, before running the last, few steps and basically throwing herself in my arms. I'm too startled to think of anything to say.

"Are you alright? I was so worried," She sighs, still hugging me, and I have no idea what to do with my hands that are just hanging by my sides. I don't get how she doesn't notice my stiffness, but since she doesn't seem to be letting go anytime soon, I reluctantly raise my arms to pat her back awkwardly. I can see Newt staring at us with a strange expression on his face, and I'm trying to message him with my eyes that I have _no idea_ who this girl is or why she's acting the way she is, but suddenly she turns her head a little and the feeling of her lips on my ear is making me shiver in an uncomfortable way.

"Tom, before you say anything, I think we have a problem," she whispers so quietly I can hardly make out what she's saying.

And after hearing the next words she whispers in my ear, I feel my blood going cold and I wish I didn't hear the words after all.

"It's about Newt. He needs to be banished."

* * *

 _ **END OF CHAPTER 5**_

* * *

Ta-da!

Sooo what did ya think? Like it, hate it? I really hope the ending wasn't too confusing. If some of you didn't get it: no, Thomas does not remember Teresa but Teresa _definitely_ remembers lil' Tom-Tom.

I wanna apologize again for the typos - my beta will fix that soon :D

Anyway, thank you for all of you who waited and still had even the slightest interest towards this story, I love you! :* Next chapter won't take as much time as this one but I still have one exam next Friday so 'til then, most of my free time will be spent stu **dying**.

But anyway, see ya (hopefully) soon!


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